Dear Margareta,

Seven years ago today, you came into our lives. Unlike all of your brothers, who arrived in some form of chaos, you made a graceful entrance. Not too long; not too short. Just right. You were the only one who allowed me the comfort of an epidural. You came with a quiet but powerful presence. You were the daughter I had dreamed of since I was a little girl playing with dolls.

While we will always celebrate your life and the joy it brought us, your birthday has become bittersweet. You are not here to celebrate it with us. You are not here to devour a cake covered with chocolate leaves, blow out candles, or tear through presents with glee.

I am left with a heavy heart and millions of questions. What would you have looked like? I find myself looking at other girls your age with wonder. What clothes would you be into now? What hairstyle? What music would you be listening to? Would you still be doing gymnastics? I know soccer was not your thing. Maybe softball?

You would have started second grade this year. Would you have become the teacher’s pet, or would you drive your teacher crazy instead because you always know how to do things better than anyone else? Would you have friends who were mostly girls, or be friends with boys too since that is who you were used to at home? Would you only have a few close friends, or would you have figured out how to make friends with just about everyone so you could somehow be the queen bee? I know these questions will forever be unanswered.

I am left with my precious memories of you, which bring comfort even on the hardest days. I will do my best to continue to write them down before they are lost over time. Even if I knew in advance how it would all end, I would have never traded a second of having you here with us for those four years. I love you more than words can ever convey.

Love,
Mama

Written by Maria Kubitz in memory of Margareta Kubitz