On June 26, 2026, the world lost one of its brightest lights. Roya Sedighian passed away peacefully at Calvary Hospital in the Bronx, surrounded by love. She was 62 years old.
Born in Tehran, Iran, on December 1, 1963, to Monir and Mohammad Sedighian, Roya carried Iran with her everywhere she went. It was more than where she was born—it was home, always. She often spoke of it with love, and its beauty, warmth, and culture lived on through her.
As the oldest of three children, Roya naturally stepped into the role of protector. She always felt responsible for making sure everyone around her was okay, often carrying other people’s burdens while quietly holding her own. Even as a little girl, she was endlessly curious, always asking questions and wanting to understand the world around her. Though shy by nature, there was a light in her eyes that reflected hope, kindness, and genuine curiosity. That quiet little girl grew into a woman surrounded by friends who loved her deeply until her very last days.
Roya began her career in information technology at IBM before making a courageous change to follow what truly filled her heart: working with children. She pursued childhood education because she believed every child deserved to be seen, encouraged, and loved. It was a career that reflected exactly who she was.
To know Roya was to feel at home.
She had a warmth that people could feel almost instantly. Whether you had known her for years or had just met her, she had a way of making you feel safe, welcomed, and important. She could spend hours on the phone simply listening, offering comfort without judgment, and reminding you that you were never alone.
Her spirituality was woven into every part of her life. She found peace in nature and especially loved the birds. Every morning she would look out the window, smile, and tell her daughter that her friends had come to visit again. They became such a part of who she was that her daughter often joked that Roya must have been a bird in a past life.
She believed in living beautifully. Roya never took no for an answer, and she taught those around her to fight for what they wanted. She also had impeccable style—you would never catch her wearing sweatpants to the grocery store. She believed getting dressed was a way of celebrating life.
Travel was one of her greatest loves. She lived in Paris for three years, and years later, when her daughter told her she was finally going to visit Paris herself, Roya’s face lit up with a smile that said everything. She had passed along not only her love of travel, but her belief that the world was meant to be explored with an open mind and an open heart.
Her greatest joy was being Tara’s mom, and there was nothing she loved more than watching her daughter build a life she was proud of.
Above all else, Roya loved people without hesitation. She wore her heart on her sleeve. She was endlessly affectionate, quick to remind the people she loved how much they meant to her, and never let pride get in the way of saying “I love you.” Her smile could brighten a room, and her hugs and kisses made the people around her feel completely safe. Those are the things her family will miss most.
Roya is survived by her beloved husband, Mohammad Naraghi; her daughter, Tara Naraghi; her parents, Monir and Mohammad Sedighian; her brother and sister; her three nieces and five nephews; and countless friends whose lives are forever brighter because they knew her.
Her family welcomes all whose lives were touched by Roya to celebrate her life on Tuesday, June 30, from 4 to 8 p.m. Everyone is welcome—because if there is one thing Roya believed, it was that there was always room for one more person.
Roya’s greatest legacy is not simply the life she lived, but the love she gave so freely. She taught us to greet the world with curiosity, to find joy in nature, to travel often, to dress beautifully, to love openly, and to leave every person feeling a little more at home than when we found them.
That is how she will always be remembered.
In this earth, in this soil, in this pure field, let us not plant anything but the seeds of compassion and love: Rumi.
