Looks Creepy Cool Podcast: Horror Stories & the Creators Behind the Fear
Aug 6, 2026 · 12 min · 7 segments
Send us Fan Mail **The shelves are full of stories...** **Tonight, we're pulling one down.** **Welcome to the Library of Shadows.** **Tonight…
I always loved my grandmother for some reason.
So many fond memories.
We were like best friends.
As a young boy, and even well into my twenties and thirties, Grammy was always there for me, especially when I really needed it.
To give me that warm, reassuring hug, spoil me to no end, or simply just to sit down and chat with me, attentively listening to all of my stories and problems.
never questioning nor judging me, but always simply there to absorb and analyze things, and then somehow, magically, make everything better again.
Unlike my parents, who were typically always far too busy worrying about their jobs, paying the bills, or trying to figure out what the hell we're going to have for dinner.
And before I forget, Grammy always baked me the most wonderful blueberry pies.
Grams was a strong, independent woman, right from the very beginning.
Her whole life, I knew her to be nothing shy of a feisty, proactive, ride-the-shit-out-of-each-and-every-day
firecracker type of individual.
She'd often lean down and secretly whisper to me in my ear, Why get busy dying when you can get busy
living?
You go, Grammy.
Her bubbly and extroverted nature and lived life to the very fullest everyday attitude not only gained her a lot of attention throughout life, but also three husbands.
And she ended up outliving each and every one of them.
The wick to her candle always burned brightly and never seemed to get any shorter.
There was no subject that Grammy and I couldn't discuss.
We talked about life, death, and everything in between.
She'd often say, the pain of losing a loved one through death is not only psychological, but just as much physical.
To no longer have that special someone right there in front of you to hold and to cherish.
can sometimes be a loss that's just too much to bear.
Having lived most of her life in the same modest little brick house, located right next to the town cemetery, for the better part of 65 years, Grammy loved nothing better than to spend her days tending to her expansive and very beautiful flower garden.
And from about the time she turned 80 or so, She could always be seen completely covered in dirt from head to toe.
Soiled knees, arms, hands, and face.
I always loved my grandmother for some reason.
So many fond memories.
We were like best friends.
As a young boy, and even well into my twenties and thirties, Grammy was always there for me, especially when I really needed it.
To give me that warm, reassuring hug, spoil me to no end, or simply just to sit down and chat with me, attentively listening to all of my stories and problems.
never questioning nor judging me, but always simply there to absorb and analyze things, and then somehow, magically, make everything better again.
Unlike my parents, who were typically always far too busy worrying about their jobs, paying the bills, or trying to figure out what the hell we're going to have for dinner.
And before I forget, Grammy always baked me the most wonderful blueberry pies.
Grams was a strong, independent woman, right from the very beginning.
Her whole life, I knew her to be nothing shy of a feisty, proactive, ride-the-shit-out-of-each-and-every-day
firecracker type of individual.
She'd often lean down and secretly whisper to me in my ear, Why get busy dying when you can get busy
living?
You go, Grammy.
Her bubbly and extroverted nature and lived life to the very fullest everyday attitude not only gained her a lot of attention throughout life, but also three husbands.
And she ended up outliving each and every one of them.
The wick to her candle always burned brightly and never seemed to get any shorter.
There was no subject that Grammy and I couldn't discuss.
We talked about life, death, and everything in between.
She'd often say, the pain of losing a loved one through death is not only psychological, but just as much physical.
To no longer have that special someone right there in front of you to hold and to cherish.
can sometimes be a loss that's just too much to bear.
Having lived most of her life in the same modest little brick house, located right next to the town cemetery, for the better part of 65 years, Grammy loved nothing better than to spend her days tending to her expansive and very beautiful flower garden.
And from about the time she turned 80 or so, She could always be seen completely covered in dirt from head to toe.
Soiled knees, arms, hands, and face.
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