by Maria Kubitz
The Urban Dictionary definition of “Old Soul” is:
“A spiritual person whom is wise beyond their years; people of strong emotional stability. Basically, someone whom has more understanding of the world around them.”
There was one moment my daughter displayed the wisdom of an old soul that will forever stay with me. She was three years old. I was home by myself with her and her three older brothers on a summer day. Boys being boys, they have a tendency of driving me nuts after being cooped up too long. Long story short, after an extended period of them not listening and causing havoc, I lost my patience. I got angry, yelled, and sent them to their rooms. It left me in an exasperated mood.
Margareta had been coloring on the dining room table while all this happened. She had just went on about her business while her brothers were being dealt with…unlike me as a little girl, who would have gone and hid thinking that the anger would find it’s way to me next. As if fulfilling my childhood expectations, my angry mood turned on Margareta next for no good reason. I snapped at her, telling her to clean up the mess of crayons all over the table. Unlike me as a little girl, who would have burst into tears or cowered in my seat and promptly obeyed, Margareta simply looked at me and said, “Mama, talk nicely to me.”
It took my breath away. This little three year old girl had enough confidence and wisdom that she could calm me down and put me in my place all at the same time. Those magical words immediately lifted the fog of anger off of me and brought me back down to earth. To the day I die, I will never forget her words of wisdom. I only wish that I can learn to react in the same state of grace as she did when someone loses their temper around me. Or that I can channel that wisdom to avoid losing my temper.
I miss my beautiful daughter, and can only hope that some day, I’ll grow up to be like her.
Submitted by Maria Kubitz in loving memory of Margareta Sol Kubitz.
by Maria Kubitz
Thanksgiving can be a difficult holiday for those who have lost someone close to them…especially a child. Since our daughter died in late September 2009, that first Thanksgiving was almost impossible. I was horrified at the idea that there was ANYTHING I could have possibly been thankful for? In the three years since, with the pain of losing her having softened a bit, I know that I have A LOT to be thankful for. One of the things I am most thankful for are my wonderful memories of Margareta and the joy she brought to our lives. I’ll share one with you…
One year, we decided to take advantage of the week-long Thanksgiving break from school, and treat the kids to a visit to Disneyland and Southern California. Our boys were ages eight, seven, and six, and our daughter, Margareta, had just turned three a few months before. The first day of vacation, we spent at Universal Studios. We stayed there that night and then drove to Disneyland early the next morning. After a full, fun-filled day with Mickey and the gang, we drove to our hotel to check in and crash for the night. When we arrived at the hotel, we checked in and made a beeline to our room. We took with us only necessities – clothes and toiletries; leaving all the kids’ toys in the car.
Once in the hotel suite, the boys plopped down on the couch and we turned on cartoons for them, and then we collapsed onto the bed in the next room. Margareta had no interest in cartoons or the football game Dad was watching. Exhausted, I begged her to go play with her brothers so I could rest a few moments before getting her evening bath ready.
Before I continue the story, I need to give you some background information. In the months before that trip, Margareta had become enamored with putting her dolls and stuffed animals to bed. This entailed laying them on the floor, covering them with a small receiving blanket, singing them a lullaby and then kissing them goodnight. She would do this anywhere it suited her – often leaving them in the middle of the hallway or living room.
Now… back to the hotel room in Anaheim.
I lay on the bed with my eyes closed. I could hear the football game, the cartoon, and Margareta keeping herself busy in the area near me. A short time later, I hear her singing a sweet lullaby. I open my eyes and looked over at her.
Having no toys to play with, Margareta had used her vivid imagination and improvised with what she had on hand. There on the floor, she had put her brother’s toothbrush to bed. Lovingly covered with a folded hand towel, she was singing to it and then leaned over to kiss it goodnight.
Good night sweet girl. I love you!
Submitted in loving memory of Margareta Kubitz by her mother, Maria Kubitz.
by Anna Weihman
My niece Margareta came to visit us and stay for the weekend, while her parents were in Tahoe, when she was three and a half years old. It was the first time we had her for the weekend. When she was younger, we’d love to play, so I know she liked me, but she would cry whenever I would pick her up! Oh well. So one day Uncle Butch was at work, and Margareta and I walked to Ashton park. She was so tired from the walk, that when we got there we both just lay down on the grass and rested. Then she got up and played a little on the swings, and the slide. We started the walk back to the house, and I could tell that she was so sleepy that I carried her most of the way. I told her I was sorry, and we’d be home soon, and we’d have mac and cheese for lunch, and ice cream, and then take a nap. I remember feeling that this was true love, when time stood still, and it felt like the two of you were the only people in the world. I thought, this is a moment and a feeling that has been given to me to always cherish.
So, the next day we drove to the park with Margareta and Butch and my Mom. She played and ran and smiled and played. Then she sat down on the bench next to Butch, and completely mimicked his slouch and look of being tired. On the way home she was throwing her stuffed animal at Butch over and over. So, he decided to throw it back. Then she said “I’m going to put YOU in a timeout!” We all burst out laughing. I laugh every time I think of this. Little one, you will always be a part of me.
Submitted by Anna Weihman in loving memory of her niece, Margareta Kubitz.
Some photos from that weekend: [nggallery id=1]
by Maria Kubitz
Ever since Margareta could dress herself at the age of two, she had a very distinct style that was all her own. She was very deliberate about what she wore (or didn’t wear!).
One of her first self-styled trends was to rummage her brother Michael’s drawers and decided that his pajama tops, swim trunks, and soccer socks were the look she was going for. Other times, it was just a ultra-cool artistic combination of her own clothes and accessories.
Many times, less was more, and she chose to wear as little clothes as possible. Naked was preferable at times, but occasionally she liked to accessorize with a skirt or cape.
Costumes were always a favorite of Margareta’s. Sometimes she would create her own combinations, but other times she would just enjoy a costume for what it was.
As she got close to four, her eye for style sharpened and she pushed the boundaries of her creativity. One day, she invented her own take on “the layered look” and put on as many clothes as her little body could wear at one time. Quite an impressive sight in person (she could barely walk and her arms hung like a sumo wrestler)!
Her last trend was her most spectacular. She channeled Michael Jackson, Elton John, and, of course, Margareta. The look defies any attempt at description or commentary. The photos speak for themselves.
Miss you sweet girl!
[nggallery id=3]
Submitted by Maria Kubitz in memory of Margareta Kubitz.
by Maria Kubitz
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
by Maria Kubitz
One of the traditions we had with our daughter, Margareta, was that she would get a hot chocolate whenever Dad or Mom got coffee at the coffee shop. On occasion, even the “kids” hot chocolate was too hot for her taste. So, one one visit to a local Peet’s Coffee I decided to taste the hot chocolate before giving it to her to make sure it was a cool enough temperature.
Unfortunately, Margareta saw this, and when I handed it to her, she refused, saying she wanted her own. I tried reasoning with her, but apparently a strong-willed three year old is not open to reason and logic. The protest got louder in the crowded shop. Desperate, but unwilling to be bullied by a three year old into buying an unnecessary new cup of hot chocolate, I turned to the barista and quietly asked if she could take this hot chocolate and pour it into a different cup with a different design on it. She smiled and understood immediately. Then, with the same hot chocolate in a new cup, Miss Margareta was satisfied that she had gotten her own “untouched” cup of hot chocolate.
All I can say is THANK GOODNESS that Peet’s has various designs on their cups. Who knows what would have happened if we were at Starbucks!
This website was inspired by the memory of Margareta Sol Kubitz in hopes of helping others work through the pain of grief.