Excerpt: "Softly, as I Leave You: Life After Elvis" by Priscilla Presley

In her latest memoir, Priscilla Presley delves into the profound changes in her life following her separation from Elvis Presley. She reflects on her journey of self-discovery as a single parent, entrepreneur, and performer.

The selection captures the pivotal day of August 16, 1977, when Elvis's untimely death was discovered at his Graceland home, and its impacts on Priscilla and their daughter, Lisa Marie.

That morning, as I prepared to meet my sister on Melrose Avenue, a chill was in the unusually cold Los Angeles air. Before learning the tragic news, I noticed my sister waving me down urgently.

She relayed that Dad had received an alarming call from Joe Esposito, indicating Elvis had been hospitalized. Feeling a pit in my stomach, I quickly headed home, anxious at the unknown severity of Elvis’s condition.

Arriving home, the phone was ringing persistently. Joe's voice was on the line, confirming my worst fears. "He's gone, Cilla," he said, voice cracking. Elvis had passed away.

Overcome with disbelief, I could do nothing but scream, as Joe reassured me that Lisa was safely with her grandmother, despite the chaos.

Soon after, Lisa called, distressed. I tried to console her, explaining that I would soon arrive on Elvis's private plane, the Lisa Marie.

Upon reaching Graceland, I was greeted by the sight of Lisa playing outside. I realized this was her innocent way of coping with the tragedy encasing the silent halls of our home.

Inside, Joe described how Ginger Alden had found Elvis unresponsive, later confirmed as a fatal heart attack. It pained me to think Lisa had stumbled upon such a haunting scene.

Graceland, typically vibrant, felt vacated and dour. Crowds and media swarmed outside, with mourners lining up to pay their respects.

Nationally broadcast, the memorial saw endless streams of fans paying homage. An international ceremony also held in London underscores the worldwide impact of Elvis's death.

During the intimate funeral service, surrounded by family and close friends, I sat in a grief-stricken haze. When alone, Lisa and I shared a private farewell, leaving a bracelet on Elvis’s wrist as a token of enduring love.

The funeral procession, flanked by white Cadillacs, led us to Forest Hill Cemetery. Ultimately, security concerns led to Elvis's reburial at Graceland’s meditation garden—his final resting place, a sanctuary he cherished.

Returning to Los Angeles, I felt a void where Elvis's boundless life energy once was. Adjusting to his absence seemed impossible, the world seemed different without him.

Life was a struggle of reminders and media attention. Each mention of Elvis’s name brought pain, and I found solace only in privacy.

Raising my daughter in the shadow of her father’s legacy posed unending challenges. Shielding Lisa from the relentless onslaught of media, I sought peace by sending her to camp and traveling abroad for respite.