by Maria Kubitz
Margareta had a huge sweet tooth. Her favorite sweet was chocolate, but any form of sugar would suffice. She inherited the sweet tooth gene from both parents. We don’t keep dessert on hand at home because we don’t have the will power to eat sweets in a controlled, smart-portion size. So, when our family does splurge on dessert or a special treat, it is a big deal.
On a warm summer afternoon, I decided to take the kids to get ice cream at one of our town’s local ice cream parlors. This parlor is the old fashion type: wrought iron chairs around round tables and ice cream served in glass dishes. They also only take cash. After looking at the prices and how much I had on me, I figured I only had enough to buy a scoop for each of her three big brothers and then one for she and I to share. I told her she would have to share an ice cream with mom, to which she indignantly replied, “No!” But when I told her she needed to share or not get any, she sadly gave in.
When the ice cream was served, the wheels in her three-year old mind had been spinning. My little Margareta had figured out that the faster she ate, the more she would get…so she attempted to eat the shared ice cream at light speed. She even tried to block my spoon a few times. I couldn’t help but be amused. But not so amused that I let her eat it all. It was ice cream, after all.
Submitted by Maria Kubitz in memory of Margareta Kubitz.
by Bill Kubitz
So a new Pixar movie came out last Friday. This is a big deal in our family since we have four little ones. I decided that I would go and see Brave. Well, it turned out that I couldn’t due to one of the kids having baseball practice. The last time I saw a Pixar movie was with Margareta when we saw Up. It was sold out so we had to sit in the front row. She sat there the entire time looking almost straight up due to the screen being so close.
Every time I see that a new Pixar movie is out or one of the other kids is watching a Pixar movie I seem to get overwhelmed by the pain that rushes through me. It starts with me remembering how precious Margareta looked staring at this huge screen and every minute being full of wonderment and amazement. When I get this picture in my head, I start to feel like someone is squeezing my heart and then the pressure moves up my body to my eyes where I get an overwhelming feeling of pressure pushing out tears. Of course I know it would be healthy to break down and cry but this seems to never happen and after a while it subsides but the sadness sits there for quite a while. Maybe it is not time for a Pixar movie yet.
Submitted by Bill Kubitz in memory of Margareta Sol Kubitz
by Maria Kubitz
When i was 6, my other sister was 4 and Madison was 2. So, Julia (the 4 year old) was being mean to me. So i threw a toy at her. She started crying and calling “Daddy! Mommy!” I took Madison with me and ran down the basement. I said to Madison, “Go upstairs and hit Julia with a book!.” Madison was confused.
“Why Shannon?” She asked. “Because, Julia is always mean to you. Don’t you want to get her back for it?”
Madison nodded. Got a book, went upstairs and started slapping it at Julia. Now of course a 2 year old can’t hit hard, but Julia just assumed it would have. Again Julia started yelling, “Daddy, Mommy!” While trying to grab the book away from Madison and hit her with it.
Finally my Dad came out and started yelling at Madison. She had no clue what was happening.
I felt so bad i started bursting into tears! “No daddy it was me! All me! I told Madison to hit Julia with the book.”
Madison hugged me and said “It’s okay Shannon, don’t cry.”
So my Dad understood and started yelling at me. And that was the end of that day!
Madison was always trying to make everyone else feel better and I miss her.
Submitted by Shannon Ritts in memory of her sister Madison Ritts
by Maria Kubitz
As many daughters do, my daughter Margareta wanted to do most everything that mom did. Although I don’t wear a lot of it, when she saw me putting on makeup, she would want makeup too. At 3 years old, I didn’t think makeup was such a good idea, so I would lightly brush on eyeshadow that was as close to her skin color as possible so that she could see some sparkles, but from a few feet away, you couldn’t tell she was wearing any. She also got to wear lip gloss on occasion. After I put them on, I would always comment “you have such pretty eyes and lips!”, so she started asking for “pretty eyes” and “pretty lips”. She would say, “Mama, I want pretty eyes.”
When her Aunt Heidi came for a visit, Margareta wanted to be just like her. She was thrilled when Aunt Heidi gave her the full makeup experience: foundation powder on her face, eyes, lips and the nail polish on her fingers and toes to match Heidi! She showed it off to everyone she could.
by Maria Kubitz
At the time, Margareta was maybe 2-1/2. We were in the living room playing with her brothers. Everything was crazy as usual, when all of the sudden we hear a really loud, gutteral burp that stopped everyone in their tracks. We stared at Margareta with wide eyes that such a sound could come from such a little girl.
Margareta looked just as shocked as the rest of us. She turned to me, and in complete awe, said “I farted in my mouth!!”
I’m not sure how long it was before we stopped laughing.
Submitted by Maria Kubitz in memory of her daughter Margareta Kubitz.
by Jill Ritts
It was the first day of school for Madison’s three older siblings. Anthony entering fifth, Shannon First grade and Julia’s first day of pre-school. Well Madison would not be forgotten.
She woke up early with the rest and packed her sleeping bag, her “goolbag” and insisted I pack her a lunch for her first day of school. She was so excited to be a big girl!
When Maddie and I had to leave a very tearful Julia in her new school, Madison was there to comfort her. “I go to gool too Julia” and she gave her sister a big fat hug.
When we pulled up in front of the babysitter’s house Madison was a little phased, she thought she was really going to school, but soon we all reached an agreement and Madison was satisfied with “pretend school” at the babysitter’s house.
“I go to real gool next year, right Mommy?”
Submitted by Jill Ritts in memory of her daughter Madison Ritts.
This website was inspired by the memory of Margareta Sol Kubitz in hopes of helping others work through the pain of grief.