Melissa Mills~ May 15, 1982 – May 3, 2026

I met Melissa in 2006 when she applied for a nursing assistant position. She didn’t have a long résumé or years of experience, but there was something unmistakable about her. I still remember her riding her bike to the interview through the desert heat of Tucson. That alone told me something important, she was determined, resourceful with a willingness to show up fully.

I hired her because I saw promise in her. What I couldn’t have known then was just how deeply she would impact the people around her.

Melissa was a hard worker, yes, and she was also intuitive, wise, and remarkably intelligent for such a young woman. She carried a depth that many spend a lifetime pursuing. Even early on, she had the beautiful ability to truly see people.

Over the years, life carried us to different places and different states, and somehow we always remained connected. Some friendships are like that. Time and distance never diminish them and the thread simply remains.

I was endlessly proud watching Melissa grow into herself. She graduated from the University of Arizona and later earned her Master’s degree in writing. That accomplishment fit her perfectly because Melissa had a way with words, poetry, ideas, and emotion. She thought deeply and expressed herself beautifully.

When I moved back to Tucson in 2021, we truly reconnected again, and I am so grateful we did.

Melissa brought joy wherever she went. She was hilarious in the most unexpected ways, silly, witty, playful, and incredibly fun to be around. The kind of person who could make you laugh until your stomach hurt and then, moments later, say something profoundly insightful that stayed with you for days.

She once (or 5 times) dressed up as Richard Simmons, “Sweatin’ to the Oldies,” and I can still picture her committing fully to it with absolute joy and zero hesitation. It was impossible not to laugh with her. And somehow, every time we were together, she would steal my phone. Always. Without fail. Half the time I think she enjoyed watching me realize it was missing more than anything else. Those silly little moments now feel priceless.

Melissa loved cats so much that I affectionately started calling her “Meow-lissa,” a nickname that fit her perfectly. In fact, on every nametag, she’d sharpie Meow-lissa. She absolutely adored animals, especially cats, and loved them with her whole heart. Neko, and Moozie and Bumpie too

She enjoyed coming to Restoration Room for sound baths, art and Reiki. She would often remind me that I had “hands that heal” and that our work together gave her power. What a gift that was for me to hear. Sometimes the people we support end up healing us too.

Melissa wanted to be part of our special CommUNITY, and she absolutely was. She belonged there naturally because she understood the importance of connection, creativity, healing, and heart.

She loved music deeply. At one point, I gave her my old keyboard, and I smile imagining her singing, tapping away on the keys, and creating little moments of joy alongside her beloved best friend, Neko the Cat.

Melissa also loved poetry and books. She frequently shared verses, recommendations, and thoughts with me. I have to laugh softly now because many of the books she suggested are still waiting for me to read them. Somehow that feels comforting now, knowing little pieces of her are still waiting patiently for future conversations.

She was generous when she could give, thoughtful with her friendships, and deeply caring beneath her humor and playfulness. She mattered to many people.

The loss of Melissa feels impossibly heavy because vibrant souls are not easy to imagine gone. And perhaps love does not really disappear. Maybe it just changes form and it continues in the stories we tell, the music we hear, the poems we finally read, the cats we stop to pet, and the moments we choose to show up for each other with kindness.

And now, when I think of Melissa, I cannot help but imagine her as a beautiful kitty-cat-angel-butterfly goddess, finally free from the heaviness of human form. Playful, radiant and light. And she’s sending little sparks of joy back down to all of us who loved her. I imagine her somewhere beyond what we can see, laughing, creating, loving, and reminding us not to take life too seriously.

Melissa reminded me that healing is not always loud. Sometimes it is laughter. Sometimes it’s sitting quietly in a sound bath. Sometimes it’s a silly joke, a shared poem, sneaking away with your cell phone, or a friend who stays connected across decades and distance.

I will miss her deeply, and I know you will too.

And I carry gratitude that our paths crossed at all.

Rest gently, beautiful Melissa. You were loved.

xo Nicole

You can join us at her Celebration of Life on Sunday, May 31st at 11am Pacific time- RSVP by clicking here.

Please leave a comment if you’d like to about your shared experiences with Melissa, or something you loved about her!