My Great Grandmother- Wooster, Ohio

I livd with my Grandparents (Mother's side) in a house outside of Wooster, Ohio and this story is about my mother and what happened to her in that house. When my mother was little, my grandparents baught this house outside Wooster. It used to be a grange, but a blacksmith baught it and made it into a house and built his shop next to it. When my grandparents baught the house, they had plenty of room for my great grandmother to move in with them. She had alzheimers and was in need of care. The upstairs had been added on when the blacksmith baught the house and three bedrooms were up there. Directly off the stairs was my great grandmother's room, then the room off the hall was my mothers and the room at the end of the hall was my uncle's. My great grandmother died a few years after they lived in the house. My mother and her grandmother were very close, in fact my greatgrandmother used to alow my mother to play with her good dresses and hats. When she died, my grandparents decided it was best not to tell my mother because they felt she was to young to understand. A few nights after her passing, my mother woke up to see her grandmother sitting on the edge of her bed. She patted my mothers head, and told her that she was going to be leaving and not to worry about her. SHe asked my mother to come into her room with her because she had something for her there. They went into the room at the top of the stairs, and my great grandmother got her good hat down from the shelf and put it on the bed between them. SHe told my mother that she wanted her to have the hat that she loved to play with so much. SHe told her she loved her and to tell my grandmother that she loved her as well. THen she sent my mother off to bed. THe next morning when my mother passed the room at the top of the stairs, the hat box was there, sitting open. The house is occupied by several spirits, I'm sure of it. I lived in that house for the majority of my life and I could always feel a presence. Some areas of the house were okay, and others were hostile. I experienced the same kinds of noises, chills, creaks and moving shadows that most people who tell ghost stories do. The story about my Mother is my favorite story about that house, because it really makes you feel comfort in knowing that those who love you are always around.

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