I'll Follow The Sun •Elvis Presley•

29: Modest

When I returned home to Graceland, there seemed to be a dark cloud hanging over the house and everyone inside it. "What's wrong?" I asked Vernon as he looked grief stricken. I had just set my bags down at the foyer and Vernon was seated in the couch with his head in hands.

He looked up at me as I approached. "It's Gladys," he sighs. "She's very sick,"

"Oh my God," I put my hand over my mouth. "What's wrong with her?"

"We're not sure, ever since Elvis left for the army, she's not been herself. She's been drinking a lot and seems to be very depressed."

"I can only imagine. Her and Elvis are very close."

Vernon nods solemnly. "It's late, you should get to bed. We all are."

I agree. "I'm gonna see her for a minute."

Vernon nods again and retires to an extra bedroom to give Gladys space for the night. I quickly take my bags upstairs to Elvis and I's bedroom and change into a pair of pajama shorts and one of Elvis's white t shirts. As I am walking downstairs to Gladys's room, I wish Elvis was walking beside me. I was nervous to see her.

Her head was turned towards me for she heard my bare feet pattering on the floor and she weakly smiles. "Hi Gladys." I smile at her, trying to hide my sadness of her condition.

"Hi darling, I'm glad you're home." She says in a weak voice, increasing my remorse. "Sit," she pats the bed next to her. "How is my son?"

I sit on the purple satin sheets and curls up next to her but not too close for I see she is visibly sweating even with multiple fans going. She appears to be bloated as well. "He is doing good. He's still the life of the party." I smile and she chuckles.

"I miss him so much," she says sadly. "I really do."

I stroke her arm while watching the tears form in her eyes. "He misses you too. Trust me, I can't wait for him to come back home either."

"Come sleep," she says. "In the morning it will be better. Nights are the worst." I nod and lay down next to her and pull the purple satin sheets over myself.

I woke up the next morning and cooked Gladys breakfast to help her mood. Maybe if she had a nice home cooked meal she'd feel better.

But this cloud on her soul wouldn't leave us, and I knew she wouldn't last long while feeling this low and with health problems.

"I love you, Gladys," I say while holding her frail hand.

"I love you too baby." She smiles weakly.