by Maria Kubitz
During her visit in late spring of 2009, our sister Patsy planted a wonderful vegetable garden on the side of our house with the help of our kids. We had been wanting a garden for a while, so we watered and cared for the garden in anticipation of the carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, and other wonderful vegetables that would come.
The garden started producing its bounty in the summer, and we enjoyed fresh vegetables with most of our meals.
One afternoon, our daughter, Margareta, decided she was going to water the garden. In true Margareta fashion, she used her quirky sense of style and imagination. Dressed only in underwear (a common sight in our home), shoes, and a red super hero cape, she went out to water the garden with a water gun we had just gotten. After seeing her head out the kitchen door in this getup, I followed her with the camera to see what she was up to with a smile on my face. Here is what I saw:
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I miss my beautiful girl with her vivid imagination and sense of whimsy. I think of these pictures often.
Submitted by Maria Kubitz in loving memory of her daughter, Margareta Kubitz.
by Maria Kubitz
We try to go to parades throughout the year, and many of them result in a collection of colorful mardi gras beads. Our daughter, Margareta, loved to wear them, as it brought out the “girly” side of her dual tomboy/girly girl personality.
Not satisfied with just wearing them around her neck, she would take her shirt off and put them across her back and around her arms, as if she had put on the straps of a backpack. When she started wearing the beads, we would remark how fancy she looked. She liked hearing it much, she started calling them “fancy beads”.
She would insist on collecting any strand of fancy beads she found in the house and hoarding them in her room. She loved them so much, she was buried with some of those beads so she could stay looking fancy forever. I keep some hanging around my rear-view mirror in memory of my fancy girl in her fancy beads.
Submitted by Maria Kubitz in loving memory of her daughter, Margareta Kubitz.
by Andrew Creekbaum
The last memory I ever had of my sister, Margareta, was from the day she died. I had just gotten home from school, and I asked the usual “What’s there to eat?” All my mom would give me were some left over nachos from Taco Bell, so I took them and headed to my room. Just as I sat down, Margareta came in and started picking some from the box. There was plenty, so I just let her continue. We sat there, and I eventually got out my homework, and she kept on asking what I was doing and how I did it. Eventually she got bored and left the room. Later that day, it turned out to be the worst day of my life, and most likely will be for a long time.
I just wish she didn’t die so young so I could have more memories of her, but this memory will be stuck in my mind for as long as I live.
Submitted by Andrew Creekbaum in memory of his sister, Margareta Kubitz.
by Maria Kubitz
It was a morning just like any other. My daughter and I were getting ready for daycare and work. We were doing the regular things we did to get out the door and into the car. As we would leave our shoes outside in the atrium of our house, I opened the door and Margareta waited as I got her Dora the Explorer shoes to put on. After I put them on, she complained that the toes hurt on one of her feet. So I took the shoe off, and stuck my fingers in to see if anything was inside.
When my fingers reached the toe, it was cold and wet and squishy. My first reaction was to get my hand out as quick as possible. As I looked at my fingers when they came out of the shoe, they had greenish goo on them. What the heck was IN there, I thought? I hesitatingly reached back in again to try to get out whatever it was.
Sadly, when I pulled it out, it turned out that a friendly black fuzzy caterpillar had thought that Margareta’s Dora shoe was a nice, warm refuge for the night. Margareta, who loved animals, was very sad that the caterpillar had gotten squished to death. We buried the caterpillar, cleaned her shoe, and then got going once again.
It was probably about a week before Margareta stopped asking me to check her shoes for caterpillars every time we put them on.
Submitted by Maria Kubitz in loving memory of Margareta Kubitz.
by Mary Miller
My husband Joe and I shared so many things, with an absurd sense of humor being a major cornerstone in the foundation of our relationship. We hadn’t been dating long when I received word that a very close friend’s 10 year old daughter had been killed in an automobile accident. We were thousands of miles apart and I didn’t really know what to say, so Joe and I went to Hallmark for a card. I had been crying for two weeks, since hearing about Jessica, but I was able to hold the tears inside enough to go shopping. At Hallmark Joe and I were a few feet apart browsing for the exact perfect card, but after reading through many sympathy cards I was starting to tear up again. He noticed, and said to me “Think we should go for a humorous card?” (He was never afraid to be ridiculous when I needed a good laugh.)
Submitted by Mary Miller in loving memory of her husband, Joe Stolz.
by Maria Kubitz
On the surface, our daughter, Margareta, appeared to be a tom-boy. With three older brothers to keep up with, she was as rough and tumble as they come, and never afraid of getting down and dirty. Her legs and knees would rarely – if ever – be free of scrapes and bruises from all the climbing and adventures with the boys. While at the baseball and soccer games of her brothers, she most often played with the younger brothers that were also on the sidelines.
With that said, Margareta never lost sight of the fact that she was a girl. While her brothers rarely, if ever, cared what clothes they had on, Margareta definitely had a unique style and a love of clothes that she somehow inherited from her dad’s side of the family. She changed outfits many times each day. She loved dresses, clothing with sparkles, pinks and purples, bows and frills. She watched princess movies and wanted to wear makeup. She was impossible to categorize. Neither “tom-boy” or “girly-girl” — she was whatever suited her in each moment.
At three, she was invited to the birthday party of one of the few girls she knew. According to the invitation, it was a princess party! You should have seen the sparkle in her eyes when she heard this. We ran to her closet to see what dresses could be appropriate for a princess. There were a few to choose from, but the decision was easy: a maroon dress with a tulle skirt and a gold knit cardigan top. The day of the party finally came, and with her princess dress on, we were off to the party at Super Franks.
When we got there, we found the princess room, and discovered that they had princess dress up clothes. The host of the party remarked that Margareta already had on a beautiful princess dress, but not one to be left out, Margareta found a matching fairy “dress” to put on over the dress she was already wearing. Then, with a tiara on top, she emerged as one of seven princesses at the party. She partook of tea and cake — and for an hour, was a princess through and through. I only have one picture that captured the moment, but will forever remember my little princess and how happy she was that day (pictured on the bottom right of the photo).
Submitted by Maria Kubitz in memory of her daughter, Margareta Kubitz.
This website was inspired by the memory of Margareta Sol Kubitz in hopes of helping others work through the pain of grief.