At my grandmother’s funeral, no one wanted to give the eulogy. I stepped up and shared a glowing story about her. Afterward, her lawyer pulled me aside with words that changed everything… The first, most damning truth of my grandmother's funeral was this: no one would give the eulogy. We sat there, a family fractured by the very woman we were there to bury, Evelyn Walsh, a tyrant in cashmere who had wielded her inheritance like a weapon. The funeral director, a sweating man, was practically plea

At my grandmother’s funeral, no one wanted to give the eulogy. I stepped forward and told a glowing story about her. Afterward, her lawyer pulled me aside with words that changed everything… The first, most striking truth of my grandmother's funeral was this: no one would speak for her. We sat there, a family fractured by the very woman we had come to bury—Evelyn Walsh, a tyrant in cashmere who had wielded her inheritance like a weapon. The funeral director, a sweating man with thinning hair, pr