Lisa Marie Presley kept her son Benjamin’s body at home for two months after he passed away.

Lisa Marie Presley was so devastated by the loss of her son, Benjamin Keough, that she kept his body in her home for two months after he passed away. She even invited a tattoo artist to see him so she could get matching tattoos.

This is just one of many surprising details in Lisa Marie’s new memoir, From Here to the Great Unknown, which was completed by her daughter, actress Riley Keough, after Lisa Marie passed away in January 2023.

Lisa Marie (left) next to her beloved son Ben, along with her third husband, Michael Lockwood, and a guest, at the London premiere of “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” in November 2010.
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In her book, Lisa Marie shared that she had to fight to stay alive for her other children, Riley and her twin daughters Harper and Finley, who are now 16. She didn’t say goodbye to Benjamin right away because she was torn between burying him in Hawaii or at Graceland, the Memphis estate where Elvis, her father, is buried.

Riley Keough shows off her “Ben” tattoo etched on her collarbone in honor of her late brother.
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Riley and Lisa Marie at the ELLE Women in Hollywood Awards at the Four Seasons Hotel Beverly Hills on Oct. 16, 2017, in LA.
Jordan Strauss/Invision/AP

Lisa Marie kept the room at 55 degrees to preserve Benjamin’s body and got so used to caring for him and having him there.

Riley and Lisa Marie decided to honor Benjamin by getting tattoos like his. Benjamin had his sister’s name on his collarbone and his mom’s name on his hand. Riley had her brother’s name tattooed on her collarbone, and a tattoo artist was called to Lisa Marie’s home to add Benjamin’s name to her hand. When the artist asked if they had photos of Benjamin’s tattoos to match the font and placement, Lisa Marie said, “No, but I can show you.”

Lisa Marie was laid to rest next to son Ben at Graceland following her death in January 2023.
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Riley writes: “Lisa Marie Presley had just asked this poor man to look at her dead son, who was right next to us in the guest house. I’ve had a very strange life, but this moment is one of the weirdest.”

Lisa Marie also knew it was strange. She said, “I think it would scare the heck out of anyone else to have their son there like that. But not me.”

Lisa Marie said she lost her “spark” after her son, seen here as a 10-year-old with his mom and sister Riley, took his own life in July 2020.
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Soon after the tattoo day, Riley remembers that everyone felt like Benjamin wanted to be laid to rest.

Even Lisa Marie said she could feel him communicating with her, saying, “This is crazy, Mom, what are you doing? What the heck!”

The family held a funeral for Benjamin in Malibu, and New Age author Deepak Chopra led the ceremony. Riley said she had to keep her eyes closed the whole time because she was struggling to cope with everything.

Riley finished off her mother’s book after listening to hours of her tapes.
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Benjamin was buried at Graceland, next to Elvis, and Lisa Marie would later be buried there too.

Riley writes a lot about her brother’s struggles with mental health and how he often went on drinking binges. She doesn’t believe he truly wanted to die.

After his death, she and her mom went through his phone, looking for answers.

As the only daughter of Elvis and Priscilla Presley, Lisa Marie lived her life in the harsh spotlight.
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Lisa Marie is buried at her father’s estate, Graceland, alongside her dad and her son.
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Riley writes, “We found a text he sent to my mom a couple of weeks before he died that said, ‘I think something’s wrong with me mentally. I think I have a mental health issue.’ It’s heartbreaking to me that he only realized he might need help just two weeks before he took his own life.”

My Mother-in-Law Moved in with Us After Her House Was Flooded – I Was Shocked When I Overheard Her True Reason for Staying

I blinked. Flooding? That didn’t sound right. She lived in a freshly renovated house, nothing but top-tier everything. I hadn’t heard a single complaint about it until now.

Before I could even begin to process, Joe appeared behind me. He looked guilty, eyes darting anywhere but at me. “Yeah… about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting his weight. “Mom’s gonna stay with us for a bit. Just until the house gets fixed.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I asked, my glare piercing.

He shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s only for a little while, babe. You and Mom get along, right?”

Get along? If by “get along,” he meant the passive-aggressive remarks about how we’d been married for six years and still hadn’t given her any grandkids, then sure. We were best friends. But I plastered on a smile, the kind you give when you’re two seconds away from snapping. “Of course. I totally understand.”

Hours later, after I’d pretended everything was fine, I got up for some water. As I passed the kitchen, I heard them talking in hushed voices.

“You didn’t tell her the real reason, did you?” Jane’s voice was sharp, like a knife slicing through the night.

Joe sighed. “No, Mom. I didn’t.”

“Well,” Jane huffed, “I’m here to keep an eye on things. Married this long with no children… someone’s got to figure out what’s going on. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

My stomach twisted. This wasn’t about pipes. She was here to snoop. To pressure me about kids. To “handle” me. I stood frozen in the hallway, blood boiling. What the hell had I just walked into?

The next morning, I woke up with a plan. If Jane wanted to play her little game, I’d play mine. But I wasn’t going to get into a battle of wits with her. No, I was going to kill her with kindness. By 8 a.m., I had already started phase one of my “operation.”

I cleared out our entire master bedroom. Every piece of clothing, every picture frame, every trace of Joe and me was stuffed into the tiny guest room. I even found Jane’s favorite floral bedspread from the back of the linen closet and spread it over the bed like I was preparing a five-star hotel suite.

When I was done, I stood in the doorway, surveying my work. The bedspread was pristine, her cat pictures were lined up on the dresser, and to top it off, I made a “Welcome to Your New Home” basket. Bath bombs, lavender-scented candles, fancy chocolates.

By the time Joe got home from work, I was already sitting in the cramped guest room, arranging our clothes into whatever space I could find. He walked in, his forehead creased with confusion. “Why are you in here?” He peeked around the corner. “Where’s our stuff?”

“Oh, I moved everything,” I said, turning to him with the sweetest smile I could muster. “Your mom deserves the master bedroom, don’t you think? It’s only fair. She needs the space more than we do.”

His eyes widened in disbelief. “You… gave her our bedroom?”

“Of course,” I said with a grin. “She’s family, after all. We’ll be just fine in here.”

Joe stood there, mouth half open, processing what I’d done. But what could he say? Jane was his mother, and I wasn’t technically doing anything wrong. He sighed and walked out of the room without another word.

For the next few days, I made sure Jane was living like royalty. Fresh towels every morning, little snacks placed on the nightstand, and those lavender candles I knew she loved.

She wandered around the house like she owned the place, smiling at me like she’d won. But while Jane was lounging in luxury, Joe was starting to crack. Sharing the guest room was driving him nuts. Not just the lack of space, but his mom’s new obsession with prepping him for fatherhood.

Every morning, without fail, she’d hand him a schedule of vitamins.

“You need to take these, Joe,” she’d say, thrusting a multivitamin at him. “It’s important to get your body ready if you want healthy kids.”

Joe would roll his eyes but take the pills just to keep her quiet.

It didn’t stop there. “Should you really be watching TV at night?” she’d ask over dinner. “That’s not very baby-friendly. You should be reading parenting books. Or exercising. And no more video games! You need to mature, Joe. Fatherhood is serious.”

By day four, I found Joe sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at a stack of parenting books his mom had ordered online.

“I think I’m losing it,” he muttered, holding up a book titled “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.” “She expects me to read this.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, Joe,” I said, suppressing a laugh, “you did say we’d be just fine, didn’t you?”

It was relentless. Jane had taken things up a notch. One evening, she handed Joe a neatly typed list of “fertility-boosting” foods. Kale, quinoa, grilled salmon—no more burgers, no more pizza. She smiled sweetly as if she was doing him the world’s greatest favor.

“Your future kids will thank you,” she chirped.

Joe stared at the list like it was a death sentence. “Wait, no pizza? Ever?”

“That’s right, dear,” she said, patting his shoulder. “I’ve planned all your meals for the week. You’ll feel so much better once you start eating clean.”

That night at dinner, we sat around the table eating dry salmon and tasteless kale. Jane watched Joe like a hawk, her eyes flicking from his plate to his face. He shifted uncomfortably, picking at his food.

“Joe,” she started, “did you take your vitamins this morning?”

He sighed, stabbing a fork into the kale. “Yeah, Mom. I took them.”

“And what about the gym? Did you make time for that? You know, you’ve put on a little weight. It’s important to be in shape if you want to be a good father.”

I couldn’t help it. I kicked him under the table to stop myself from bursting out laughing. He shot me a look, his expression torn between frustration and desperation. After days of this, it was finally getting to him.

Later that night, once Jane had gone to bed, Joe turned to me, rubbing his temples. His voice was low, almost pleading. “I can’t do this anymore, Tiana. The guest room, the vitamins, the baby talk… I’m going insane.”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress a smile. “You have to admit,” I said, failing to keep the amusement out of my voice, “it’s kind of funny.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny.”

I let out a small laugh. “Okay, okay, it’s a little funny.”

Joe groaned and collapsed onto the bed. “I booked her a room at the hotel down the street. I can’t take another day of this.”

The next morning, he broke the news at breakfast.

“Mom, I’ve booked you a nice hotel nearby until the repairs at your house are done. You’ll be much more comfortable there.”

She blinked, clearly surprised. “But I’m perfectly fine here! And besides, isn’t it time you two got serious about giving me grandkids?”

Joe’s jaw clenched. “Mom, we’ll decide that when we’re ready. For now, the hotel is best for everyone.”

For a moment, Jane just stared at him. Then, realizing she had no leg to stand on, she reluctantly nodded. “Well… if you insist.”

By the end of the day, she was gone. The house was ours again.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Joe collapsed onto the couch with a dramatic sigh of relief. “Finally.”

I grinned, sinking down beside him. “So… kale for dinner?”

He groaned. “Never again.”

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