Forever Odd
way he put it, I knew this might be an unusual but not an unheard-of arrangement.
Yes, sir. Thats the thing.
With the rough bearish charm of a concerned Marine sergeant counseling a troubled soldier, the priest said, Odd, youve taken some bad blows this past year. Your loss
my loss, too
has been an extraordinarily difficult thing to cope with because she was
such a good soul.
Yes, sir. She was. She is.
Grief is a healthy emotion, and its healthy to embrace it. By accepting loss, we clarify our values and the meaning of our lives.
I wouldnt be running away from grief, sir, I assured him.
Or giving yourself too much to it?
Not that, either.
Thats what I worry about, Chief Porter told Father Llewellyn. Thats why I dont approve.
This isnt the rest of my life, I said. A year maybe, and then well see. I just need things simpler for a while.
Have you gone back to the Grille? the priest asked.
No. The Grille is a busy place, Father, and Tire Worlds not much better. I need useful work to keep my mind occupied, but Id like to find work where its
quieter.
Even as a lay resident, taking no instruction, youd still have to be in harmony with the spiritual life of whatever order might have a place for you.
I would be, sir. I would be in harmony.
What sort of work would you expect to do?
Gardening. Painting. Minor repairs. Scrubbing floors, washing windows, general cleaning. I could cook for them, if they wanted.
How long have you been thinking about this, Odd?
Two months.
To Chief Porter, Father Llewellyn said, Has he talked with you about it for that long?
Just about, the chief acknowledged.
Then its not an impetuous decision.
The chief shook his head. Odd isnt impetuous.
I dont believe hes running from his grief, either, said Father Llewellyn. Or to it.
I said, I just need to simplify. To simplify and find the quiet to think.
To the chief, Father Llewellyn said, As his friend who knows him better than I do, and as a man he obviously looks up to, do you have any other reason you dont think Odd should try this?
Chief Porter was quiet a moment. Then he said, I dont know what well do without him.
No matter how much help Odd gives you, Chief, there will always be more crime.
Thats not what I mean, said Wyatt Porter. I mean
I just dont know what well do without you, son.
SINCE STORMYS DEATH, I had lived in her apartment. Those rooms meant less to me than her furnishings, small decorative objects, and personal items. I did not want to get rid of her things.
With Terris and Karlas help, I packed Stormys belongings, and Ozzie offered to keep everything in a spare room at his house.
On my next-to-last night in that apartment, I sat with Elvis in the lovely light of an old lamp with a beaded shade, listening to his music from the first years of his storied career.
He loved his mother more than anything in life. In death, he wants more than anything to see her.
Months before she died-you can read this in many biographies of him-she worried that fame was going to his head, that he was losing his way.
Then she died young, before he reached the peak of his success, and after that he changed. Pierced by grief for years, he nonetheless forgot his mothers advice, and year by year his life went further off the rails, the promise of his talent less than half fulfilled.
By the time he was forty-which biographies also report-Elvis had been tormented by the belief that he had not served his mothers memory well and that she would have been ashamed of his drug use and his self-indulgence.
After his death at forty-two, he lingers because he fears the very thing that he most desperately desires: to see Gladys Presley. Love of this world, which was so good to him, is not what holds him here, as I once thought. He knows his mother loves him, and will take him in her arms without a word of criticism, but he burns with shame that he became the worlds biggest star-but not the man she might have hoped he would be.
In the world to come, she will be delighted
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