Yesterday we shopped at our local farmer’s market, one more stop on an afternoon jammed with errands. Filling my arms with our favorite fresh vegetables, happy to see this signs of spring and local produce, I stopped at a small basket filled with rhubarb. “Rhubarb!” I said aloud as I blinked away the tears that had sprung to my eyes.

My dad was not a man who showed his affection in conventional ways. He wasn’t a person, or perhaps of a generation, that freely hugged or kissed. The words “I love you” were not ones that I remember him ever saying. In fact, when I was away doing study abroad in college, my dad’s letters to me were signed with “your father” and then his full name.

But there was no doubt in our minds that Dad loved us. When one of us was ill, Dad would hover over us. His indication that we were going to be okay was if he could get us to eat, generally toast that he would make and butter and try to tempt us with. If you ate the toast, you were going to be okay. I have no question that this was the way he showed his love, as clearly as if he had found a way to say the words.

So where does rhubarb come into this? Although I don’t really remember this, my mother often told the story of one specific instance of me being ill as a small child. I had been pretty sick and Dad was trying to find a way to make it better. He’d often bought rhubarb at the outdoor market he visited every week and Mom would make rhubarb sauce. It was a favorite of mine and, on this occasion, it was the only thing I wanted. Knowing what I was like as a child (okay, I am not that different now), I am sure that I refused to eat anything if I couldn’t have rhubarb.

This was before the era when just about anything you want is available frozen. And it was winter. I am sure you know where this is going. Dad drove all over the city, tried every place he could think of and could not come up with rhubarb, no matter how hard he tried.

Love is not just about the words, it is about the way we show it, the way our hearts lead the way. So yesterday I bought the rhubarb and today I made the rhubarb sauce. It’s the rhubarb of spring, of memory, of understanding, a sweet way that helps me fill my full heart.