Michelle Roberta Baller

Michelle Roberta Baller, born on August 4, 1964, in New Brunswick, NJ, left this world on February 7, 2026, in Raritan Township, NJ. A cherished daughter, sister, Michelle touched the lives of those around her with her warmth, kindness, and unwavering spirit.

She was preceded in death by her beloved parents, Jerome Baller and Margaret L. LeBair. Surviving family members include her devoted sister, Sharon Baller and her husband, James Robinson, Jr., and her sisters child, Och Robinson. Their shared memories and love will continue to honor her memory and celebrate her life.

My sister Michelle Roberta Baller, lived to be 61 and would have turned 62 on Aug. 4th. We lived parallel lives to each other. She, being the eldest was automatically my protector when we lay side by side in infancy. She was always gentle, letting my tiny fingers touch her face as I became familiar with her and she with me.

Shelly, in many ways, grew with in the confines of a crib or bed. Due to neonatal asphyxia, a medical condition that occurred when Shelly didn’t get enough oxygen led to serious long-term complications, including seizures, blindness, and cerebral palsy (CP). Her muscles remained stiff and inflexible. Any progress that Shelly made was wiped away with a progression of seizures. Neighbors and friends came to our house around the clock to help with “patterning” therapy but her condition never changed. She lived her life immobile, blind and incapable of speech.

Shelly’s medical needs were more than my family could provide from within our home. She received the best care possible as a resident at Hunterdon Developmental Center for over 55 years of her life. At HDC my sister received around the clock attention from the amazing doctors, nurses, staff and volunteers.

Shelly was 100% love. Her hair soft thick and brown like our father’s. Her gentle face set with impenetrable brown eyes. People judged, labeled and misunderstood her while only seeing the surface; the result of a drunken obstetrician’s refusal to administer oxygen to the tiny, 6 pound 4 ounce blue baby girl in the delivery room. Family members saw the toll the patterning therapy took on my parents as they tried to break the spell that cerebral palsy had cast upon their first born.

My sister had many gifts and strengths known only to those who spent time with her. One being her laugh and smile — that tiny body could always muster a full belly laugh. Another was her acute hearing. She had an ear for music and responded to the sounds around her. When hearing the tap tap tap of her doctor’s high heel shoes echo from the hallway, Shelly would begin to cough, knowing that once her doctor entered she would be coddled and soothed. That little cough —- showed Michelle’s humor and was her tether to the world beyond her hospital bed.

During our weekly visits, my father and I would always sing to her. She would smile and laugh. Our father was a song writer and she was his little bird, who never learned to fly. Until one day an angel came, as angels do and took Michelle under her wing and finally she flew.

As a child, I never truly understood the ending of my father’s song. I wanted that angel so badly, so that my sister could learn to run, play and talk with me. So we could make up stories and games together, share a bedroom and tell each other secrets. Now I understand that when the ambulance arrived at the hospital at 5 am this past Saturday with Shelly’s form laid on the gurney —- at the moment her heart stopped beating, she flew. At last our little bird flew.

Memorial contributions in Michelle's name can be made to the Hunterdon Developmental Center, 40 Pittstown Road, Clinton, NJ 08809.