Friends Mourn Woman Lost To Heroin, Whose 'Smile Lit Up A Room'

EAST QUOGUE, NY — A heavy cloak of grief enveloped the countless hometown friends and loved ones who turned to social media this week to mourn a young woman, originally from East Quogue, who had been reported missing and was later found tragically dead of a heroin overdose.

Isabella Bighta, 30, who was currently living in Huntington but who attended Westhampton Beach High School, was found dead of an overdose in Philadelphia, her heartbroken mother said Wednesday.

Bighta, or "Izzy," as her friends called her, was reported missing while traveling home from visiting friends out of state, Suffolk Police reported on Sept. 12.

She was visiting friends in New Jersey and was dropped off at a bus station on 30th Street in Philadelphia on Aug. 31. Bighta told friends she was taking a 6:10 p.m. bus to return to her home in Huntington but she never arrived. She then was reported missing to Suffolk County Police on Sept. 6.

Anna Bighta, who also lives in Huntington, said her daughter was found dead in Philadelphia on Sept. 1, but had no identification, so it took some time for her mother to be located after she was identified by fingerprints.

Her friends, who had turned to social media to try and help find her and bring her home safely, were devastated to hear that their Izzy was gone — and were left to mourn a young woman they said was a ray of shining brightness in a dimly lit world.

Samantha Lindenbaum remembered time at the beach, collecting beach glass, "Izzy's graffiti art, her smile, her laugh and her love."

One photo Lindenbaum posted depicts "Izzy as a kid — she wanted to be a ninja when she grew up," Lindenbaum said.

Countless friends, many of whom have known Bighta since she was a young girl in East Quogue, posted this week about "her contagious laugh and smile. Izzy was the person whose smile lit up a room. She was kind, giving, compassionate, and empathetic — almost to a fault. She would do anything for anyone. She was always willing to help a friend in need. There are lots of heavy hearts," one friend wrote.

Another friend was heartbroken: "Hearing this news just crushes me. You and I were inseparable in high school. Your friendship, loyalty, and heart were truly one of a kind. I’ll miss your contagious laugh and beautiful soul so much."

Lindenbaum, who said Bighta was the love of her life, shared other memories: "My favorite memory of Izzy is one that shows her true character," she said. "I have suffered with a seizure disorder for a long time and there was a point that I had to be admitted into the hospital for two weeks. I was in and out of consciousness but every single time I opened my eyes, she was holding my hand at my bedside. She slept in a chair next to me and did not leave that room until I was discharged."

One day while she was admitted, Lindenbaum said she was really missing her pup, Skeeter, at home.

"Izzy said, 'I’ll be right back.' When she came back, she had a stuffed animal dog that looked just like my Skeeter and said, 'I know it’s not the same, but we can call him Jeter.' I will always have that stuffed animal. To me, it represents her countless acts of kindness through her lifetime. All the times she went out of her way to make someone else smile. She had this special trait of making people feel better in every way. She made me feel warm and loved, safe and secure. Her love that day, and every other day up until her death, will remain in my heart forever."

While Lindenbaum said the pair didn't spend many nights apart, when they did, "She would always tell me, 'When you’re missing me, look up at the stars, because I bet I will be looking at them missing you, too.' Now whenever I miss her, I will look to the stars, because I know she will be with me."

Skeeter, Lindenbaum's dog, meant so much to Izzy, she said. "Every time Izzy and I would get ready to hang up on the phone, after she said, 'I love you' to me, she always said, 'Give Skeeter five pats on the head for me.' She truly was a special one-of-a-kind human with a one-of-a-kind heart. She always made sure that I knew how much she loved me, and that Skeeter knew, too, even though he’s a dog. She didn’t care, she loved him 'like her fur-child,' as she would say."

Left with just memories, Lindenbaum said she will cherish the many cards Bighta would give her, just to show she cared, and for no reason at all. "I have a stack of cards from her that I will read whenever I’m missing her," she said.

And, she wrote on Facebook: "A piece of me died when your heart stopped beating, because missing you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Love you so much. I have no clue how I’m going to get through this without you."

Another friend wrote: "Words cannot express how much I am going to miss you. Such a beautiful soul. You are forever in my heart."

Overwhelmed with the news — she got the call Tuesday that no mother should ever have to bear — Bighta spoke to Patch Wednesday morning about the devastating loss of her daughter.

"I'm numb," she said. "It's such a shock. I still can't believe it — but I know it's true."

Her daughter, she said, was addicted to heroin. "Lately, she was in a downward spiral," going from hospital to detox to rehab. "She didn't want to live. She told me, 'I want to die. I don't want to live. I have no life.'"

Her father's death from cancer in Poland only added to her daughter's despair, "pulled her down further," Bighta said. "I feel like she's at peace now, because she was struggling with this so badly. The drug was bigger than she was."

When friends in the East Quogue and Westhampton found out their friend, whom they called "Izzy," was missing, they and her mom were devastated. Friends shared a post more than 1,000 times on Facebook, in hopes of bringing her home safely.

Remembering her daughter, Bighta said she was "so good-hearted, always helpful. If anyone was in trouble, she was always there. She was so intelligent, so smart, she learned everything in five minutes."

Her daughter, she said, loved music and life.

But then, she said, her daughter was pulled into the grip of heroin's deadly addiction: "She was like a lost soul. The heroin took over. She couldn't fight this. It overwhelmed her."

Her voice breaking, Bighta described the agony of losing her daughter, even in the months before her death, to a drug so deadly it stole her, right before her eyes.

"I lived by the phone. She called from the street, from the hospital, from detox, from rehab. In the end, she was interested in nothing. I'd ask her to go to the movies, to go shopping, to eat, and she always said 'no,'" she said. "She gave up."

When her daughter was in treatment, Bighta accompanied her, too many times, to funerals of young friends who'd died, lost their own battles. "They had their whole lives in front of them. But this disease needs to be controlled."

Opioids are too readily dispensed by doctors and hospitals, Bighta said. "We have to do something," she said.

And now, the weeks of waiting for word have ended in tragedy for Bighta. During the time that her daughter was missing, she said, "I couldn't do anything. I was just sitting in this house, looking at the phone."

Blinded by the news, Bighta, said she was numb with grief, making funeral arrangements for her beautiful daughter. "I feel destroyed."

Photo courtesy Bighta family, Samantha Lindenbaum, friends.