In Memory of Bianca Webster: From the Class of 1994: Part II

A little more than a month ago I wrote this post, about a stone in front of my son’s elementary school honoring the memory of a deceased student named Bianca Webster.

Today, in an incredible twist of … something, I received this haunting e-mail:

Hi Sir,
I read your blog about: While my kids were climbing a tree outside the local elementary school yesterday afternoon, I spotted a small rectangular stone with this message:

I believe that the then elementary aged child is daughter. I’m not sure If it is my child.  If you’re talking about a school in [BLANK], NY.
I like to share  a few things about my Bianca. She was a daddy’s girl.

She loved me very much. And I loved her. I know you’ve stated that you didn’t know Bianca Webster.

But I still want to thank you for taking notice of her.  Bianca was  in 5th grade when she passed away, she was 10  at the time. Which means, in 2010, “YES” she’d be a full-grown adult, 25- or 28-years old, perhaps with a husband … kids … a career … a life.

Sir, I wasn’t in New York when Bianca passed away. I was living in Virginia. Bianca’s mother and I were not together. Although Bianca and I had  a very good relationship, her mother and I were very kind to one another when I called on the phone or visited Bianca in New York.

Bianca’s mother apparently did not keep contact information about me. My Bianca had all of my info like phone numbers and addresses in her bedroom.

Sir, I did not find out about Bianca death until  she was already buried.

Due in-part to Bianca’s  aunt going through her things in her bed room finding my phone number and calling me.

You know, after all of these years, I still have not gone to visit Bianca’s grave.
I don’t know, for a time it was I didn’t have the money to go to New York from Texas-where I live now. And perhaps I just could not come to conclude that my baby girl is dead.

I’m not sure why I’m sharing so very much of my personal life to you. Maybe it’s God way of bring me closer to going to New York to see my Bianca’s grave.

So, thanks for sharing. I like to ask you to hold your children close, tell them that you love them everyday. And show them that you love them every second, every minute, every hour of each day.

Darrell Lewis-San Antonio, Texas ( Bianca’s Dad)