Michelle Suzanne Hernandez

Michelle Suzanne Hernandez came into this world on the day of February 26, 1984, born to Kathleen and Richard. The first of three children, Michelle would be the core of this nuclear family. It was apparent when Michelle was born that she would lead a unique and challenging life, and that raising her would be a monumental challenge itself. Richard and Kathleen would meet that challenge head on with inexhaustible love and effort to provide Michelle with the happiest life she could live. The rarity of Michelle’s disability meant there was not much information available to assist with her development, and with the unflinching dedication of her parents by her side, she would figuratively write the book on Ring 18. While Michelle had a profound impact on all who truly knew her, the impact her life will have for other children born with this disability will be tremendous. She blazed the trail.

Michelle’s younger brothers David and Jimmy each came a few years apart after Michelle, and the fun began on the day of David’s birth when the little Miche, from the gentle clutches of her father— reached over and resentfully whopped him on the head. The family isn’t big enough for the both of us, Buster—she might have fumed if she could’ve spoke, but it’s clear that the sentiment did not last. As David and Jimmy grew up, they pitched in to care for Michelle as an inherent duty to the family, taking care of and protecting their big “little” sister, and she grew to love and rely on them throughout the years. Michelle brought out the caring and nurturing side of everyone. She had the inexplicable ability to charm and endear herself immediately to everyone who met her. Although she could take time to warm up to new people, when she finally did there was no doubt about it. The minute she began pulling you into one of her games, you knew you were in the club. Michelle would touch the lives of many people and teach them they had patience they never knew they had, as well as compassion, tolerance, and protectiveness for the vulnerable. Michelle made the people in her life better people.

There was nothing quite like Michelle’s distinct sense of humor. She loved slapstick, so naturally games developed around the family performing silly and ridiculous acts to get a laugh out of her. Whether Michelle was “hurling” one of the boys out of her room, pulling her Mom’s nose, or poking her Dad’s eyes—she was laughing hysterically. The hurling game where she would wave goodbye, give a slight push, and the subject would rush out of the room as if they were thrown—occasionally pretending to trip or slam into the door frame for good measure—was something that always received a hearty laugh from the Miche. Her laugh was enough to put a smile on anyone’s face, and it’s one of the things everyone loved the most about Michelle. Whether she was making everyone high five each other, “bamming” us playfully on the head, or just wiggling in her seat Miche was always a tremendous character.

Michelle’s identity can also be characterized by her love for fast moving roller coasters, spicy Mexican food, pepperoni pizza, camping on the beach all day, and especially her love for her daily snack of chips, guacamole, salsa and queso, washed down with a Coke, followed by an Oreo cookie, was a standard that all who knew and loved her were intimately familiar. Michelle had a collection of books and videos that would put the Library of Congress to shame. Especially important to her was her enormous collection of family photos, which she spent hours viewing and sorting.

Michelle was a force of sheer willpower, beating all odds and predictions from doctors in her early days—most who did not believe she would make it past her eighteenth birthday. Michelle fought through so many health complications, hospitalizations, surgeries, and brushes with death and came out the other end the victor, again and again. She was a tough cookie, with an unbreakable resilience despite her weaknesses. Michelle battled with autism as well, learning to be less controlled by her rituals as time went on. She always had her routines and rituals, but she developed a tolerance and open mind to newness that allowed her to enjoy so many more things as she grew older. Enjoying things as simple as dressing up in a Halloween costume, eating at the table with her family, giving and receiving hugs—all things that we take for granted. Watching her burst with excitement over the upcoming activity, you could just feel her elation. Perhaps her greatest challenge was her communication barriers, unable to speak and often unable to clearly tell us what was going on. While her comprehension was good and she improved at communicating as the years went by, she is certainly finally able to enjoy the experience of speaking her mind in sentences, free of the limitations that trapped her words in her mind throughout her life.

Above all else, Michelle was a loving daughter and sister to her family, and she was the bond that held us all together. She brought so much joy to us and elicited our best qualities. She was precious and innocent, feeling empathy and love but never malice. We would have done everything for her, and we did. This does describe the intangible essence of Michelle, but like her mother she was an embodiment of love and kindness. Words cannot do her justice, at least none of ours. Our hope is that one day we all get to hear in her words what it was that drove her to always push through every barrier—have a chance to know everything from her perspective. No matter how challenging the times in Michelle’s life could be, she never lost that light inside of her. We all love you so very much, Michelle. Miche. Meeps. Miss Miss.

Thank you for being in our lives. We all love you, baby girl. You did such a good job, and in the words of her baby brother David, you were always our “GooGirl!”

In lieu of flowers the family requests that contributions be made in honor of Michelle to the Chromosome 18 Registry and Research Society https://chromosome18.salsalabs.org/donate/index.html