Raising A Hero

How could I know?

That I would help raise a hero.

Now…quiet are my thoughts of you,

When before we would’ve shared a laugh or two.

A good kid that could get into trouble,

Hey, that’s just kids, hope it don’t burst your bubble!

We ran our 8 mile run, close by the place where you are buried,

You answered your call back then, even when you were worried.

I learned a lot from you when you did,

I saw the man you became, I knew the kid.

I kept track of you as you veered left and right,

I went to get you once…and bring you home for the night!

I helped you with schoolwork, and took you on camping trips,

We didn’t argue much…every now and then…a few words crossed our lips.

The first day I met you, and your sister too, I won’t forget,

You talked on and on of your Dad, probably hiding your regret.

Then later on, I married your mother,

Relieved of duty from man of the house, you could return to son and brother.

And become the kid that was inside of you,

Everyone remembers your funny things of what you use to do.

But what amazes me is that in your short life,

You lived a lifetime…you still knew hurt and you knew strife.

But those are gone…you’ve been relieved of them, too.

PFC. Leroy Sandoval, Jr….I’m so proud of you!

Your Mom and sister will be fine,

You are always on their mind.

And for me as well,

Every part of War is hell!

But when the time came you stood up against the fire,

Any One, Any Where…would have to admire.

You were a brave man, and a funny kid,

I will never forget what you did.

And we were promised by the Marine Corp,

That your name would not be forgotten forever more.

Leroy…Leroy…LEROY! I had to yell out during our 8 mile run that day,

I screamed out of breath…‘Cause you were going the long way!

With your headphones back on, you couldn’t hear what I was trying to say,

So I took the shorter way, this was old man vs. new recruit…it wasn’t play.

Out of shape for the long run, we both needed to see what we could do!

I was hoping to run many more 8 mile stretches with you.

To see me already sitting down on the back porch…boy were you surprised!

We had been running neck to neck, and now looking back I realize.

That we crossed the finish line at two different times, just like in reality.

Oh, my young step son…I wish the one that took the bullet was the older one…me!

But...I mention this small little part of Leroy’s and my history,

To tell you how haunting that yell...out of breath...has come to be.

Sometimes I wake up...as I did this day,

And I’m screaming to him to turn, and run the other way!

This is not me trying to be poetic...It is exactly how I feel,

I hear myself scream out his name...I can’t believe that this is real.

Leroy stayed on his machine gun...when he should have run,

Today, like everyday... I think back to what he has done.

He fired back...and provided cover fire...and alone faced the enemy,

A lot of people in this world couldn’t do that...and that includes me!

How could I know?

That I would help raise a hero.

Now…quiet are my thoughts of you,

When before we would’ve shared a laugh or two…

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Leroy Sandoval, Jr. was killed in Fallujah, Iraq, March 26, 2004.

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