Honeycomb
December 2025
When I moved to Chicago four years ago, Lincoln Park Zoo Nature Boardwalk was one of the first places I visited. It reminded me of a mini version of Central Park and I enjoyed the views of the skyline. Most importantly, their “Honeycomb” architecture symbolizes my Grandfather—we called each other Honeycomb ever since I was a little girl.
Earlier last month, I took pictures with the fall foliage. I wanted to be intentional with doing something that made me feel confident and beautiful, despite feeling sad about my Grandfather being in the hospital.
Once I finished taking pictures, I unconsciously turned around, looked at the “Honeycomb”, and said, “Goodbye Honeycomb, see you later!” I felt goosebumps on the back of my neck—I’ve never said goodbye to a piece of architecture out loud before. I immediately thought of my Grandfather and how I’ve been building the courage over the past few days to call him—to be hit with the sound of his voice—to accept the reality of how unwell he is.
Later that evening, I called his hospital room. He didn’t sound like himself. His words were slurred and it was hard for me to understand him. To break the silences (the moments we were thinking the things we didn’t want to say out loud), I started telling him about my day. I explained that Lincoln Park Zoo is much smaller than The Bronx Zoo, but that he would’ve enjoyed their bird house.
I felt like a kid when I described the birds’ colors, sizes, and features. I shared that my favorite bird had patches of royal blue, gold, and deep green. It was so small, yet flew faster than the others. I started choking on my words—I was saying goodbye to the Honeycomb I grew up with—the Honeycomb who loved birds and cared for them as pets. I muted the phone because I didn’t want him to hear me crying. Forty-two minutes went by and we wished each other goodnight.
He passed away five days later. As painful as that last conversation was and as complex as our relationship became, I find peace knowing I called him one last time. Honeycomb will stay with me—like a “handprint on my heart.”
The “Honeycomb” at Lincoln Park Zoo Nature Boardwalk
My favorite bird at Lincoln Park Zoo
