For those of you who are familiar with Ravens Roosts and Ravens Nests you know the sense of community and the feeling of extended family that characterizes these philanthropic organizations.
The Baltimore Ravens inspired their common bonds but it’s their love of humanity and for each other that galvanizes the communal pledge of these wonderful brotherhoods.
And when death robs the Roosts or Nests of one of their own, the pain tethers and is felt throughout Ravens Nation.
Just recently a dear member of the Ravens Roost 50 family fell victim to the robber.
Diane Bedworth Nigrin, one of the original members of “50”, passed unexpectedly on Saturday, May 3. She was a devoted Mom of 5 children and “Nonni” to 6 grandchildren. Diane, affectionately referred to as “Momma Roost”, was 59 years young.
Momma Roost had a gift that is common to people with big hearts. Upon meeting her she was immediately engaging, warm and kind in a way that suggested you already had a long-term friendship. She was the kind of person more interested in hearing about you than talking about her.
She also had a special and delicate knack with children. Good people have a way of inviting the affection of kids because there is no pretentiousness. Children see through that anyway in an innocent kind of way. They are attracted to sincerity and to trustworthiness.
Diane embodied these qualities.
Those of us who are left behind when someone so special is lost almost always ponder the unanswerable.
Why was she taken?
Why now?
What might have been that will now never be?
There are no good answers really – only those steeped in faith and even those aren’t always effective pain relievers when living in this state of consciousness.
Perhaps the best approach is to embrace the memories, cherish the things you shared with Diane and let those live in your heart. Try not to fret what will never be but instead, be thankful for what was.
When I lost my Mom many years ago, Fr. Vincent Gluc during the funeral mass likened our lives here on Earth to that of a caterpillar. Once we pass we enter into a temporary cocoon stage, a metaphor for a burial.
And then, in the next form of consciousness, we emerge as beautiful butterflies.
Undoubtedly Diane will soon spread her radiant wings.
Rest in peace Momma Roost…
