Dad would’ve liked Texas.
He would’ve liked the sage growing wild in the yard.
He would’ve liked the rolls of the Hill Country and the mariachi in the city.
Dad would’ve liked the house.
He would’ve liked the arched doorways and the Saltillo tile floor.
He would’ve liked the stone exterior and the wide porch overlooking the ranch.
Dad would’ve liked me.
He would’ve liked my lost weight and my found joy.
He would’ve liked my independence and how I stopped worrying.
Dad would’ve liked this phase of life.