by Jill Ritts
In 2010, I had crazy mornings. Getting four kids out of the house by 7:20. But we did it. I’d wake everyone up for a quick bowl of cereal in front of “Full House.” Maddie always asked for “Ciminin toast crunch, no milk” At two and half she had figured that if she skipped the milk part of the cereal, she would be the first to eat. Smart little bugger!
Anyway, once in the car we would drop Anthony and Shannon off at their school. Wait in the car until they were crossed by the crossing guard and then make the u-turn to get the 4 year old Julia off to preschool. Julia had quite the case of separation anxiety and every morning at about this point she would begin crying. Madison and I would do our best to comfort her as I inevitably had to carry her into the school building. All parents know the routine, no lingering, give the child to her teacher and walk away quickly, but Julia would always ask if Madison could stay…”Next year Julia.” Madison would inform her big sister as we were flying out the door.
Maddie was last to be dropped off at the babysitters. Alone in car she would ask me to put on Cornfllake girl (Fornflake girl) by tori amos. And then she would sign along real loud until 2 blocks before the sitters house. At this point she would got completely quiet and put her head on her shoulder. I would turn down the music and get out of the car real quietly and open the back down. While unstrapping her car seat I would ask “are you real sleeping or fake sleeping?” Madison would answer quietly “I’m real sleeping.” I would carry her in my arms like a new born into the house were I would inform the sitter, “Shh, Madison is real sleeping,” as I placed her on the couch. I would whisper my goodbyes as we all played along with game, and finally head off to work.
Submitted by Jill Ritts in loving memory of her daughter, Madison Ritts.
by Maria Kubitz
Margareta’s baby brother, Paxton – who isn’t much of a baby anymore – just started preschool this month. He is about the same age as Margareta was when she started, and he goes to the same preschool she went to. While there are many, many similarities between Margareta and the brother she never met, there are some very distinct differences. Paxton is a very outgoing kid. He often says “Hi” to strangers he sees in the store or on the street. He often introduces himself to other kids on the playground in an effort to play with them. He rarely acts shy. Margareta, on the other hand, was very choosy who she let see her talkative, vibrant side.
While she was loud and boisterous with her family and close friends, strangers would have to earn her trust before they were allowed to see that side of her. Often, she would meet new kids at her brothers’ baseball or soccer games and shadow them quietly, waiting for the right time to inject herself into their play. She would charm adults with her sparkling eyes and coy smiles, but rarely open her mouth around them. And yet, if she were interested in something they had (snacks, shade on a hot day…), she would inevitably, silently get it from them like a snake charmer.
This shy, quiet side of her seemed to be amplified when she first started preschool at the age of three. The first day I dropped her off, she was fine. No tears. She was happy to be there. But on the second day, she saw another girl crying when her dad dropped her off and it occurred to Margareta that she was supposed to do that too. It then took a few weeks – and bribes of chocolate – to get her to stop crying when being dropped off.
About a month after she started, we received an invitation to a classmate’s birthday party. I thought it was a good opportunity to meet some of her classmates and their parents, so Margareta, a couple of her brothers and I went. It was at a local park. We were one of the first guests to arrive and decided to play a game together as we waited for the party to officially start. Margareta was being her normal self – the normal side we were used to. Then I overheard the birthday boy remark to his mom about Margareta, “She can talk?”
I laughed out loud hearing that. And so did her brothers. Boy…if they only knew.
Even though Margareta LOVED preschool and talked about all the wonderful things there, apparently she was still her shy, quiet as a mouse side while she was there. Even a month or so after that when I was dropping her off, I stood by her side while she told her favorite teacher about what she did during spring break, only to hear another girl remark, “That’s what her voice sounds like?”
I do know that Margareta made friends at preschool. She loved Bianca, and talked about her often. I’m not sure why it took her so long to open up to kids at school. Perhaps it was that most of the kids in her class were slightly older than her. I’ll never know. I just know that I miss my loud, talkative, often outrageous girl who could sometimes appear quiet as a mouse to others.
Submitted by Maria Kubitz in loving memory of her daughter, Margareta Kubitz.
by Maria Kubitz
“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens…”
My daughter, Margareta, never got to sing this song from the Sound of Music, but my guess is that she would have loved both the song and the movie. She died before she was old enough to see it. I was recently asked what things she liked while she was alive. So, with the catchy tune playing in my head, here are a few of Margareta’s “favorite things”. I’m quite certain this doesn’t nearly capture them all, and they are in no particular order.
Her Thumb
Margareta is in the midst of a long line of thumb-suckers. I have an ultrasound of her sucking her thumb in the womb. As soon as she got any sort of control over her hands, she started sucking her left thumb. No one was going to be able to get her to stop until she wanted to. No one.
Stuffed Animals
Just like all of my children, when Margareta was brought home from the hospital, her crib was lined with stuffed animals. Unlike any of my other children, Margareta was the only one who actually loved stuffed animals. She played with all of them, and had a knack for finding them in other people’s houses – especially households that didn’t have little kids in them. When she found them, she would gather all of them in one big pile, as if to have a stuffed animal conference.
Books
Margareta loved books to the point where she would sit and “read” them by herself in her room even though she didn’t know how to read. I read her three books at bedtime, and other times throughout the day. Books were so important to her that they could be used as motivation for getting her to do something she didn’t want to do. All I’d have to say is “No bedtime books if you don’t…” and she would immediately give in. She loved books so much I had to keep adding bookshelves in her room to hold her growing collection. She would sit patiently and listen to books that were written for children much older than her. After she died, her Aunt Cindy – who with her friends had built a school library for a Mayan community in Mexico – named it in honor of Margareta. It is called Biblioteca del Sol (Sol is her middle name). We think it is a wonderful way to honor her.
Chocolate
Actually, anything sweet would do, but chocolate was her favorite. Having two parents with major sweet tooths, she inherited that gene in full force. I’ve already written about her affinity for ice cream. We would use chocolate to bribe her on occasion. We used it in potty training and for getting her to stop crying when being dropped off at her new preschool. When she ate trail mix, I had to institute the rule of five raisins and nuts for every one M&M. On her third birthday, I made chocolate leaves on her cake which left such an impression on her that she asked for them for her fourth birthday cake.
Stealing George
George is a black gorilla. He belonged to her big brother Michael, who snuggled with George every night at bed time. Margareta took great delight in stealing George and hiding him from Michael. Michael was not very amused, but then again, isn’t annoying big brothers what little sisters do best?
Dress Up
Margareta LOVED playing dress up. We had a huge collection of costumes, but any clothes would do. Whether it be unusual combinations of her own clothes, dressing up in her brother Michael’s pajamas and soccer socks, or her latest favorite costume…Margareta would change clothes as often as she could. I think of it like a singer changing clothes between songs during a concert. The only problem was any clothes she took off would be left in a pile on her floor, which meant her room was constantly messy.
Puzzles
From an early age, Margareta became a master puzzle solver. She quickly became bored of the baby/toddler puzzles where you fit pieces into corresponding shapes, so I introduced basic jigsaw puzzles. To my amazement, I had to keep getting her harder and harder puzzles to do because she would figure out how to put them together so quickly. Her favorite puzzle was of an underwater scene with fish, octopus, jellyfish, lobster, etc. It was one of those large floor puzzles that was bigger than her.
Animals
Margareta loved animals with a passion. One of her favorite books was an Amazon animal alphabet book. She delighted in going to the zoo, and aside from spiders, she never seemed shy about approaching or petting animals no matter what kind. She would quietly watch the deer who came near our house for afternoon snacks or a drink of water in our pond. Margareta began naming the deer; usually nonsensical names that were hard for me to repeat, but I remember clearly one deer who had lost a hoof was endearingly named “Rock Star”. She also had a soft spot for dogs. No matter how big, she would want to pet them and talk to them. I remember our friend Jimmy telling a story at her memorial service that his son was amazed that she was brave enough to try to hug their dog, who was taller than she was. When asked, “Why isn’t she scared of him?”, Jimmy answered, “Her love for him is stronger than any fear she might feel”. I couldn’t have said it any better.
There are many more favorite things, but that will have to wait for “Her Favorite Things: Part 2”.
What are some of your loved one’s favorites? I’d love to hear.
Submitted by Maria Kubitz, in loving memory of her daughter, Margareta Kubitz.
by Butch Kubitz
Hello Little Girl,
The same day Anna and I took you to the Farmer’s Market in Sacramento (I don’t remember if it was before or after), you and I played “Cootie”. For some reason, we were in the house alone and I retrieved the game from the closet. I remember I bought it at a thrift store in the hopes that I would one day be able to play it with a youngster that might enjoy a game from “way back”. You and I read the rules before we played (just to make sure) and started tossing the dice and connecting bug parts. What fun! Before I knew it, we’d played about 10 games and it seemed you thought we’d play Cootie all day. Unfortunately (for you) I got bored and wanted to do something else. Thank you for being my friend that day, thanks for being a good sport, and thanks for keeping your Uncle Butch company. Wanna come over tomorrow?
I miss you and so wish you were here so we could watch you grow.
With love,
Uncle Butch
Submitted by Patrick (Butch) Kubitz, in loving memory of his niece, Margareta Kubitz.
by Maria Kubitz
Ever since she was born, I sang songs to my daughter, Margareta. I had my short list of favorites, and would sing them usually to get her settled down to sleep, but over time I would sing to her throughout the day whenever the moment struck me. I even added my own lyrics to the french song “Alouette” that I had learned as a child to make a song about how much I loved her.
As soon as she could talk, Margareta loved to sing herself. She had a knack for memorizing lyrics, even at the tender ages of two and three. In the car, we would sing songs together, and the second a song was over she would ask for me to sing another one. She did this so often, I even came up with a song called “One more song, Mama”.
Margareta’s older brother, Andrew, also loves to sing. He too had started singing from a very young age. Starting in third grade, Andrew began performing in musicals – either through summer camps or at school. As a result, he would be practicing his songs at home and Margareta would do her best to learn them as well. Because she couldn’t read, this meant just listening to him sing over and over and memorizing what she heard. It led to some funny interpretations sometimes.
The songs she learned from her brother that stick out in my memory are “Iowa Stubborn” and “Gary, Indiana” from The Music Man, and later on “If I Only Had a Brain” from the Wizard of Oz. Of course, she only learned parts of the songs, but the parts she sang, she sang with purpose and gusto – as if she were going to be up on that stage herself.
The song she learned from her brother the best was “If I Only Had a Brain”. She memorized three quarters of the song and sang it over and over again. In perfect pitch, I might add. It became her favorite song. We often talked of Margareta and Andrew ending up singing in a band together. A dream that can never come true.
Andrew sang “If I Only Had a Brain” for his sister at her memorial service with tears in his eyes. It will now forever be the song that reminds me of my little girl who loved to sing.
Submitted by Maria Kubitz in loving memory of her daughter, Margareta.
This website was inspired by the memory of Margareta Sol Kubitz in hopes of helping others work through the pain of grief.