Obituary
Stacy Renee Rafferty (Maholland) was born on September 3, 1974 at Asbury Hospital, Salina, Kansas to parents Saundra Pruitt and Jeffrey Maholland. She passed away at Nathan Adelson Hospice in Paradise, Las Vegas, Nevada on November 24, 2025 at the age of 51.
She is survived by her husband Ian, by her found family of Annie Smith, nephews DeAngelo, Saadiq and Zion, and by her friends Nicole, Sable and Becca, to name a very, very few.
Her Travels…
In the fall of 1999, Stacy left Kansas behind, travelling to Rhode Island to start a new life. There, she worked at Rhode Island Hospital and eventually went to school for radiology.
She moved to New Hampshire in 2005, began a career at United Health Care, and was married to Ian Rafferty on March 26, 2007.
Stacy and Ian moved to Las Vegas, Nevada in autumn of 2018 to start a new (warmer, drier and snowless) chapter in their lives.
Her Friends…
Stacy possessed a loving heart, an infectious laugh, insightful mind, a glowing smile and (when roused) a dangerously scathing wit.
Stacy never wanted the spotlight, even though she was incredibly funny and unbelievably brave. Fluent in sarcasm, conversational in sass, and perfectly articulate in professionalism, she met life’s extra-ridiculous moments with subtle humor and steady grace. She had a well-known allergy to drama, laziness, and stupidity but she would handle it, take the high road, then share a laugh. Her honesty was legendary: she told you what you needed to hear and somehow made you feel understood.
Order brought her joy: fresh pens, sticky notes that actually stuck and color-coded spreadsheets were enough to turn any day into a good day. If you were Stacy’s friend, you were lucky—she was your sounding board, your guide, your laugh that broke the tension, and the one who would sit in the muck until you could stand again. Forever up for an adventure—concerts, wrong turns, not-so-short short-cuts—she laughed with you and at herself.
Her legacy is simple and sunny: be honest, be kind, be funny, and enjoy the scenery.
Her Work…
Stacy had a passion for helping others. She pursued training in multiple medical fields and devoted 20 years of service to United Health Care. She was known by coworkers as a trusted and knowledgeable colleague, twice winning the UHC Service Heroes award for outstanding customer service. Always willing to lend a helping hand, Stacy was the person everyone could count on for guidance and support. Her innovative thinking and unwavering commitment to doing what was right have left a lasting impact on the people who worked alongside her. Stacy will be remembered not only for her expertise but for her kindness and personal integrity.
Her Illness…
Stacy had been plagued with digestive maladies throughout her life, including ulcerative colitis, crohn’s disease and severe gluten allergies.
In early 2023 Stacy was diagnosed with colorectal cancer. Through two difficult years of surgeries, hospitalizations and chemotherapy, Stacy was declared cancer-free in the spring of 2025 and enjoyed a summer looking forward to a bright future.
Sadly, in October 2025 she fell ill again. Exploratory surgery discovered the cancer had returned, and was inoperable. Unable to eat, or to walk unhindered by arrays of tubes and facing no better prospect than withering away in pain, she made the decision to suspend life-extending care and enter hospice to leave this world gracefully.
Hand-in-hand with her husband, Stacy took her final breath at 1:31 am on Monday, November 24th, 2025.
Her Husband…
Stacy was my wife, my partner in hijinks, the guiding light of my life, and my closest friend. Nothing I say can appropriately frame this beautiful, magnificent human being. The world is a profoundly lesser place without Stacy in it.
On Stacy’s behalf, I would like to thank:
The staff at Valley Hospital 2 North: for years of care and compassion. Many of you were genuine friends to Stacy. All of your loving words and affirmations as she left the hospital for the last time were kindnesses she appreciated greatly, and which I will never forget.
Dr. Melissa Miles: for expertise, advice and friendship that gave my wife great comfort and helped to ease her passing. Your exemplary commitment to Stacy’s care gave us years we otherwise would not have had, and that is a gift I cannot stress the value of.
The staff of Comprehensive Cancer Center of Nevada: for Stacy’s ongoing treatment.
Nathan Adelson Hospice and their staff: for making Stacy’s final hours comfortable.
Stacy’s coworkers and team at UHC: for your support and friendship before this ordeal and – most importantly – during it.
I respectfully ask that you contemplate supporting Death with Dignity initiatives in your state.
Finally, Stacy was a registered organ donor and regularly gave blood. These are simple things that all of us can do to help pass priceless necessities to others in need. Cancer rendered her unable to donate these gifts in the end, but at least in this way, we can step up to fill the gap she left behind.
Gallery
Memory wall
Thank you for your friendship, Stacy. You were a model of strength amidst adversity for us all.
She will be deeply missed not just as a colleague, but as a friend. The friendships she built here were real, lasting, and full of laughter. Her absence leaves a space that can’t be filled, but her memory will continue to bring smiles to our faces.
Rest easy, Stacy. You were one of a kind.
Stacy had an extraordinary gift—she could make you feel like the smart one, even though she was always the smartest person in the room. She was brilliant, witty, sharp as a whip, and her sarcasm was unmatched—I cherished every bit of it. She had a true passion for problem-solving; troubleshooting and finding the root of any issue was her forte. Watching her unravel puzzles and tackle challenges was inspiring and always fun.
Stacy was a deeply private person with a small close circle of friends, and I feel honored to have been part of that circle. In recent years, she faced many struggles, yet she wore a brave face and rarely revealed how much she was hurting. While my heart aches, I find comfort knowing she is finally at peace and free from pain.
I will never forget her or the countless conversations we shared. Stacy, thank you for being my confidant, my cheerleader, and my friend. You will forever hold a special place in my heart, and I will carry your laughter and wisdom with me always. Rest peacefully, my dear friend—I love you and I miss you.
“Those we love don’t go away; they walk beside us every day—unseen, unheard, but always near, still loved, still missed, and forever dear.”
Stace never wanted a stage, but she was incredibly funny. She was never interested in the spotlight, yet she was unbelievably brave. Fluent in sarcasm, conversational in sass, and perfectly articulate in professionalism, she could be counted on for subtle humor and steady grace when life was extra ridiculous—the rare combination that made even the hard parts feel survivable.
She had a well known allergy to drama, laziness, and stupidity. The remedy? Handle the situation, take the high road, and then crack a few jokes with friends who needed the laugh as much as she did. Stacy’s honesty was legendary. She told you what she thought—not just what you wanted to hear—and somehow still made you feel understood. With her, truth came wrapped in kindness and topped with a little banter.
She delighted in catching silly typos and grammar mistakes; some becoming inside jokes that lived on for years. And because order brought her joy, she loved the quiet magic of office supplies: fresh pens, sticky notes that actually stuck, and color coded spreadsheets were enough to turn any day into a good day.
If you were Stacy’s friend, you were lucky. She could be a sounding board when your thoughts were noisy, a guide when you needed direction, the laugh that broke the tension, and the person who’d sit in the muck and commiserate until you could stand again. She seemed to know instinctively what you needed and in what order. Even at your worst, Stacy was there to help you get to your best.
Stacy was always up for an adventure; just give her a concert lineup, a map with a few questionable detours, and something delicious on the way. She knew the best stories were born when plans didn’t cooperate—the terrible meal we always talked about, the wrong turn that led to the perfect shopping spot, the not so short short cut that became the inside joke. If you were willing to laugh at yourself, Stacy was right beside you, laughing along. And she wasn’t afraid to laugh at herself either.
Friendship with Stacy had no expiration date. Whether you talked every day or every few weeks, you picked up like no time had passed. Conversations could ping from silly to serious and back again, and somehow you always ended with a clearer head and a lighter heart—often with your most ill advised email safely unsent.
Stacy put others first, even when things were hard for her. She made people better—gently, persistently, and with humor that turned accountability into friendship. As a friend, she will be remembered for her integrity, her irreverent wit, and her capacity to love people exactly as they are. Her legacy is simple and sunny: be honest, be kind, be funny, and when the route gets messy, enjoy the scenery.
Favorites
(Yes, she actually enjoyed watching sumo wrestling. She was a fan of many combat sports, and once she got by the "fat men in diapers" imagery, she appreciated the sport. I mean, she pretended it wasn't a big deal, but every so often she would casually ask when the next tournament was and then insist that we watch it ASAP.)
(In the very likely event she might have argued otherwise, I present the following evidence: her phone didn’t have Downton Abbey on the home page or the pop-socket, she owned no Downton Abbey stickers and there wasn’t a single Downton Abbey T-Shirt in her whole collection. Deadpool? Checks all the boxes.)
(I kinda maybe feel like she enjoyed collecting Breneé Brown's books more than reading them. She always asked for them, but those bindings look awfully fresh, no earmarks or folds or bookmarks anywhere in the sizeable stack.)
(Conversely the Ann of Green Gables trilogy is barely held together and the pages have enough natural crinkle to have burst the slip case for the set. It is held together with old sepia-colored scotch tape. She loved those.)
(But not Nickelback.. Never Nickelback.)
She also enjoyed a lot of pop rock from the 80s, like The Pointer Sisters and Whitney Houston.
... that requires explanation.
Stacy was a Mixed-Martial Arts fan. Georges St Pierre (GSP for short) was a title holder in two different Ultimate Fighting Championship divisions, and more to the point, he's a respectful, handsome, capable guy who shared a bunch of digestive issues with Stacy.
Seeing how he fought through ulcerative colitis to become one of the greatest fighters in the world, Stacy nominated GSP as her spirit animal.
In theory, I think this would be more of a role-model, but Stacy was very clear on the wording: "He is my spirit animal."
(I'm pretty sure that GSP remains unaware of this fact. His loss.)
(As the digestive problems became more severe – but before we knew the causes – macaroni & cheese or spaghetti at home was the go-to.)
After moving to Vegas, knowing that gluten was her nemesis and adjusting her diet accordingly, her favorites become Chik-Fil-A (because they have decent enough gluten-free chicken burgers) and Power Soul Cafe, a 24-hour gluten free pizza place that also served cookies and smoothies.
(Her favorite thing at Power Soul was the cheeseburger pizza... which of course they discontinued because Stacy was the only one who loved it. Still, there were other pizzas on the menu that she also liked, just never quite as much.)
Donate
To find an American Red Cross Blood Drive near you: www.redcrossblood.org/give.html/find-drive
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