It’s weird saying goodbye to a place that was never really yours. A place that is known as ‘the people’s house’ can never really be gone, right?
We said our last goodbye to Terrace Hill, a place I’ve come to grow extremely fond of, this past week as my parents-in-law packed their last boxes up before they start their next adventure in China.
For readers who have been following along over the years, you know that our family spends a lot of time at the old Victorian mansion on Grand Avenue. We had our wedding reception in the back yard, found out the gender of both our boys (Ev/Fitz) in the dining room, enjoyed countless courses during The Big Night extravaganzas – and that just scratches the surface.
We even lived there for a couple of months in between homes. During that time, Everett took his first steps and we truly embraced the old home and all its character.
I’m ‘feeling all the feels’, but I can’t even imagine how my husband must feel about it. You see, Marcus grew up here. He spent the first 16 years of his life within these walls only to leave and, much to everyone’s surprise, return as an adult. The weirdness he must have felt when walking back into his childhood room so many years later…
I took some time to talk to him about it the other day and thought I’d share a few of his memories/thoughts:
“As a mischievous child growing up at Terrace Hill, I had a lot of opportunities to get into trouble. I remember hiding out in the VIP bedroom during tours and when guests would walk by I’d grab their ankles from under the bed.”
“It was a surreal moment going back to the tower room to find the initials I had carved still there after 20 years.”
“I’m so happy that both of my children have gotten to spend so much time with their grandparents in the same house that I was raised in – running in the same hallways, bathing in the same tubs and making life-long memories they won’t soon forget.”
So, yes, we are sad, but the silver lining in all of this is that we can always return to Terrace Hill. They open their doors every year to tourists and architecture enthusiasts alike. I still plan be a part of their annual Halloween event, Scare Us Hill, in the fall and hope to participate (as a patron this time) in a tea or two.
I am aware that it will never be the same, but I can’t wait to tell the boys when they are older all about the time they got to pet the pardoned turkeys, dine on three birds at once during the annual Turducken feast, meet governors from across the United States during the NGA conference in Iowa and every other memory from Grandma and Grandpa B’s old house.
[photo by Brandi Lloyd Photography]