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.
Getty Images
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.
Instagram/ Riley Keough
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.”
Getty Images
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.”
AFP via Getty Images
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.
Getty Images
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.
Bettmann Archive
Redferns
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 HUSBAND GOT ANOTHER WOMAN PREGNANT WHILE I WAS ON A BUSINESS TRIP – MY REVENGE MADE HIM SOB.
The sterile scent of antiseptic and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor had become the soundtrack of my life. My three-year-old son, Leo, lay frail in the hospital bed, his small body battling a relentless illness. And while I navigated the labyrinth of medical jargon and the agonizing uncertainty of Leo’s condition, my husband, Jacob, was betraying me.
A business trip, he’d called it. A chance to network, to secure a better future for our family. Little did I know, the “networking” involved his colleague, Jessie, and a betrayal that would shatter my world.
Jessie’s message arrived like a poisoned arrow, delivered through the cold, impersonal medium of a text message. “Jacob and I… we’re expecting.”
The words blurred before my eyes, the world tilting on its axis. Leo’s illness, the stress, the exhaustion – it all paled in comparison to the searing pain of betrayal. Jacob, the man I had loved for eight years, the father of my sick child, had abandoned us for another woman.
He packed his bags, his movements devoid of remorse. His parting words, callous and cruel, echoed in my ears: “I don’t regret anything. I’m fed up with you and this little burden.”
He left, leaving me to pick up the pieces, to face Leo’s illness alone, to navigate the wreckage of our shattered life.
But amidst the devastation, a flicker of resolve ignited within me. Jacob wouldn’t get away with this. He wouldn’t escape the consequences of his actions. He needed to learn a lesson, a harsh, unforgettable lesson.
I waited, patiently, for the initial storm to subside. I focused on Leo, on his recovery, on rebuilding a life for us, a life without Jacob. I buried my anger, nurturing it, shaping it into a weapon.
Months later, when the dust had settled, I reached out to Jacob. I invited him over, suggesting we discuss the terms of our separation, the logistics of parental rights. He arrived, his demeanor smug, his eyes filled with a self-satisfied gleam. He thought he had won. He thought he had escaped unscathed.
We sat at the kitchen table, the same table where we had shared countless meals, countless memories. I spoke calmly, rationally, discussing the legalities, the practicalities. He nodded along, his eyes never leaving mine, a predatory glint in their depths.
He left that day, beaming, convinced he had secured a favorable outcome. He thought he had manipulated me, played me for a fool.
But the real game was just beginning.
A week later, I filed a lawsuit against Jacob. Not for alimony, not for child support, but for full custody of Leo. And I didn’t stop there. I included a detailed account of his infidelity, his abandonment of a sick child, his callous disregard for our family. I attached Jessie’s text message, the one that had shattered my world, as evidence.
The lawsuit landed on his doorstep like a thunderbolt. He called me, his voice trembling, his bravado shattered.
“What is this?” he demanded, his voice laced with panic.
“It’s a lawsuit, Jacob,” I replied, my voice cool. “For full custody of Leo.”
“You can’t do this!” he sputtered. “I’m his father!”
“You abandoned him, Jacob,” I said, my voice flat. “You abandoned us both. You forfeited your right to be a father.”
“But… but Jessie,” he stammered. “We’re having a baby.”
“Congratulations,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Perhaps you’ll learn from your mistakes this time.”
The lawsuit was a public humiliation. It was splashed across local news websites, gossip columns, and social media. Jacob’s reputation, his career, his new relationship – all were tarnished.
He tried to fight back, to discredit me, to paint me as a vindictive ex-wife. But the evidence was irrefutable. His actions spoke louder than any words.
The court granted me full custody of Leo. Jacob was granted supervised visitation rights, a stark reminder of his betrayal. He was ordered to pay child support, a financial burden that would haunt him for years to come.
He sobbed in the courtroom, his tears a pathetic display of remorse. But it was too late. He had made his choices, and now he had to live with the consequences.
Leo, thankfully, made a full recovery. We rebuilt our lives, stronger, more resilient. We found a community of support, a network of friends who embraced us, who helped us heal.
Jacob, on the other hand, was left with nothing but regret. He had traded a loving family for a fleeting affair, a moment of selfish gratification. He had learned his lesson, a harsh, unforgettable lesson. And I, in turn, had found my strength, my voice, my revenge.
Leave a Reply