The Unexpected Truth: A Memoir

By JP Ledger

When on vacation as a teenager, Justin encounters a psychic who warns him of the many unique and trying experiences he will go through in his life. But will they come true?

This unforgettable memoir tells the story of how Justin, a child of immigrant parents growing up in Vancouver, Canada, endures the many challenges, twists, and turns life throws his way.

From family, friendships, and love to betrayal and finding spirituality, Justin comes to accept that suffering is part of the human condition. However, it's in those difficult moments when we're given a choice of how we wish to proceed through life.

It is within his suffering that Justin finds his truth and meaning.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JP Ledger
• Release date: Nov 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781777725150

Book preview

— INTRODUCTION —

My name is Justin, and I wrote this memoir because I think it is important for people to see the truth. What truth? you may ask. The truth that lies within us all. I needed to understand myself, but I believe in order for that to have happened, certain aspects of my life had to transpire in a particular fashion. I feel that, similar to how the Navy Seals break down their cadets during training to better mold them into who they need them to be, I was also broken down and molded, but more on a spiritual level of sorts. I had to fall from the depths of despair in order to realize my true self.

Where do I begin? It’s been such a long and intricate journey with many twists and turns that many people may not believe. So much has happened; from love and betrayal to finding spirituality. If I can promise you one thing, it’s that all I’m about to tell you is true down to the core. I’ll be using fictitious names and locations as not to implicate anyone involved. I hope this story can shed light on what some families go through and help people in similar situations. I honestly hope it can serve as inspiration in moving forward with life. No matter the hardships and struggles we as human beings endure, we’re never alone. Believe in the unbelievable to find truth and the world will open its doors to you, revealing the secrets within.

And most importantly: Love is the key to spiritual awakening. You must love yourself before you can truly love others.

— SECTION 1 —

My Early Childhood

Fighting Spirit

Even from a very early age, I needed to fight to stay in this world. My mother often told me the story of how I almost died at three months of age. You see, my mother could not breastfeed, so the alternative was formula. As the story goes, my pediatrician recommended a formula to my parents. At first, it seemed like my body accepted the formula. However, a couple of weeks passed, and my parents noticed I had a fever and seemed to be getting sicker with each passing day. My parents rushed me back to the pediatrician, claiming that the formula was making me sick. The pediatrician told my parents it couldn’t be the formula and not to worry. He continued, Give it a few days and he will be alright. My mom wasn’t entirely convinced, but she agreed. Unfortunately, a few days passed and I still had a fever, now coupled with a rash. My parents had had enough and rushed me to the nearest children’s hospital. Tests were done, and it was determined that I was allergic to the formula that the pediatrician had recommended. This was after he claimed there was nothing wrong with it. I was placed in intensive care, and the doctors gave my parents a 24-hour window to determine if I would make it or not. In the next couple of days, my fever finally broke and my rash cleared. I was in intensive care for approximately three weeks. The new pediatrician told my parents that if I had continued with the old formula, I could have died. Thankfully, my parents took action and took me to the hospital to seek a second opinion.

Guardian Angel

Ibelieve my guardian angel helped me when I was very young. I was probably four years old when I had my first unique experience that involved something supernatural. Every afternoon I would take naps. My mom would put me to bed, close my bedroom door, and off to dreamland I went. If I had to guess, I would probably sleep for an hour or so. Either my mom would wake me up or I would wake up by myself. It was usually the latter. On this occasion—it must have been some time in December because the Christmas tree was up—I had woken up from one of my afternoon naps and made my way to the bedroom door. I tried opening the door but I couldn’t. It was stuck for some reason. This had never happened to me before. No matter how hard I pulled on the door, it just would not open. I became scared, feeling trapped, so I ran into my closet and began to cry. Keep in mind, not being able to open my bedroom door was a new experience for me. It was a very traumatic experience for a four-year-old to go through; having that sense of being trapped and alone. A couple of minutes must have passed when I felt a strong breeze pass me. I looked towards the door and it swung open in front of my eyes. A feeling of relief washed over me like never before. I got up as fast as I could and ran towards the open door, looking for anyone to hug.

Being older now, I’ve had some time to ponder this experience. I’m a rational person who would discredit this experience immediately if I could. However, in retrospect, the apartment windows were closed because of the cold weather, so the breeze could not have come from outside. It must have materialized some other way. My bedroom door opened inwards like so many other doors do, making it more plausible that the experience was a supernatural one rather than just a freak occurrence. Hypothetically, even if the apartment windows were open, I don’t believe a gust of wind would open the door inward like it did for me at that moment. With that in mind, I have concluded that it was my guardian angel that came to my aid in the form of wind that day.

Growing Up

Ihonestly had a good childhood. I was fortunate to grow up in a loving home, surrounded by good friends. Some of my fondest memories are waking up really early on Saturday mornings, pouring myself a bowl of cereal, and heading downstairs to watch my favorite cartoons. After the cartoons were done, I would then head outside to play with my friends. I had a basketball net, which meant my buddies would often come over to play a game or two of b-ball. As I write this, I’m smiling thinking how simple it used to be to attain happiness. It is when we get older that things tend to get more complicated in life. Of course, our demands change. The little things don’t mean as much anymore. We’re so focused on the big picture that we forget to see the small moments that matter. We start to lose touch with ourselves and the simplest form of happiness.

I remember waking up early on Christmas morning, all excited, wondering what Santa Claus had left me under the tree. I would run to the tree and sit down beneath it, grabbing presents and shaking them in the hope of discovering what was inside. One particular Christmas, I had asked Santa Claus for a Nintendo Game Boy. I so wanted one. It was the popular gaming system at the time. Man, was I happy when I found one under the Christmas tree! My older brother and I would compete for the highest Tetris score. As well as I did, he always seemed to beat me.

I’m the youngest of two brothers. My brother is seven years older than I am. It was nice having an older brother because whenever I got bullied, he always came to my rescue. At the end of the day, he was a good brother. I remember being four years old, living in my parents’ first apartment. I used to follow my brother everywhere like a lost puppy. Whenever he would leave the apartment, I would cry and ask if I could come with him. There came a point that my brother would have to sneak out of the apartment while I was taking my nap in order to leave. Whenever I awoke and didn’t find him, I would immediately start crying and ask for him. Nevertheless, whenever he did return, he would always bring me back something, albeit a chocolate bar or my personal favourite, little green army men. Convenience stores used to sell little plastic army men in clear bags. I believe they came in tens. Sometimes the packages would include jeeps and tanks. I remember this vividly because of the joy it would bring me. I would set up my little green army men on the hardwood floor in the hallway of my parents’ apartment and use my imagination to carry me away for hours on end.

My admiration for my brother sometimes got me into trouble. For instance, once when I was about four years of age, my brother had invited one of his friends over to the apartment that my parents were renting in Surrey, British Columbia. This was the first place my parents rented once they got off the plane from Uruguay. It wasn’t the best part of town, but it was definitely one of the cheapest. This was in the early 80s. As the story goes, my brother and his friend were sitting in the living room watching music videos. Of course, I was hovering around them trying to be part of the crew. I noticed they were both chewing something. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I wanted some. I asked my brother if I could have what he was having. He said he was chewing gum and I couldn’t have any because I could choke—in retrospect, rightfully so. There I was, watching my brother and his friend chewing on what looked like the best thing in the world, and I couldn’t have any. I had my Lego blocks in front of me and I thought, maybe if I put this juicy red Lego piece in my mouth it would be the same thing. As you already guessed, it wasn’t. I put the Lego block in my mouth and started chewing. My poor teeth! And that’s when it happened. I started choking. I was gasping for air, but to no avail. I must have been panicking, because my brother looked over and saw something was terribly wrong with me. He must have put two and two together and figured out I was choking. I’m guessing the different shades of purple gave it away. My brother screamed for my parents, and my dad came rushing into the living room to see me there struggling to breathe. My brother told my dad what had happened. My dad quickly started hitting my back, but of course this did not work. I remember him rushing me into the kitchen. He turned me upside down, grabbed me by the ankles, and started shaking me like I owed him money and he was looking for loose change. Anyhow, it seemed to work because the piece of Lego I had lodged in my throat popped out. It is important to note that my parents knew nothing about the Heimlich maneuver and my dad did whatever came to mind. After that, I didn’t have another piece of gum until I was in my teens. It’s just one of those things.

Red Slipper of Death

Sometime in the late 80s, my parents bought their first home in Surrey. It was a semi-detached house. This was a big step for my parents in that it was the first home they ever purchased in Canada. Prior to this, my parents’ home was the apartment they had rented across town.

The house my parents purchased backed onto the railroad tracks. I remember the rhythm of the train passing would put me to sleep at night. It took a little getting used to, but when I did get used to it, I loved it. It was like having a personal white-noise machine. However, I remember the train would not pass at its regular time on Sundays, but much earlier in the day. Unfortunately, this hindered my sleep pattern, as I did not have the sound of the train to take me to dreamland.

I became good friends with the boy who lived in the house attached to ours. He was a little older than me. Of course, he and I would get into trouble from time to time. One time we decided it was a good idea to go behind our houses and explore the train tracks. My parents always told me not to play on the train tracks, but boys will be boys, I guess. We were just being stupid kids looking for an adventure; perhaps trying to emulate the movie Stand by Me where four childhood friends embark on an epic journey along the railway tracks to look for the body of a boy who had died. This of course set them up for a great and thrilling adventure.

Unfortunately, our little adventure was nothing of the sort. All we managed to find was a couple of needles on the side of the tracks and a whole lot of garbage. A couple of hours passed, and it was time for us to go home. Let me tell you, I wish I never went home on that particular day, because when I got home, my mom was waiting for me with a slipper in hand. She had fire in her eyes. I had miscalculated because I thought she would still be at work. Boy was I wrong. Where were you? she yelled. I was just playing with the neighbour at his house, I retorted in the hope that she would buy it. She didn’t. You are lying! I saw you playing on the train tracks. I knew there was nothing more I could do but take what was coming to me. I