Grief often turns people inward, narrowing their world to the quiet ache of loss. But when Chad Porter lost his beloved mother, Pam, to cancer in December 2025, he found a different path through the pain.

The profound loss was something the Porter family didn’t see coming. Following a summer diagnosis, Pam had responded well to her first round of chemotherapy, giving her loved ones hope for more time together. But on Thanksgiving day, Chad rushed his mom to the emergency room, where they learned her cancer had reached an untreatable stage — a shocking and heartbreaking turn.

Yet, it was during those final, difficult days at Novant Health New Hanover Regional Medical Center in Wilmington that a powerful shift occurred. Chad watched as the medical staff surrounded his mother — and the whole family — with compassion, guiding them through the heaviest moments with grace and empathy.

Rather than quietly retreating after his mother passed, Chad made it his mission to ensure his mom’s care team knew exactly how much light they brought to his family's darkest hour. He channeled his grief into something positive — an email to leadership at the hospital, praising his mom’s care.

“I want that group to be put on a pedestal,” he said. “They’re such selfless people.”

‘Down to days, not weeks’

Chad, a motivational speaker and life coach, is highly skilled at overcoming obstacles and mentoring others on how to do the same. However, when confronted with the seriousness of his mother's sudden illness, that deep-rooted optimism made it difficult for him to see how grave her condition truly was.

In hindsight, Chad can see that his mom wasn’t going to get better. But in the fog of that unexpected Thanksgiving visit to the ER that led to Pam’s admission to the hospital, they still had hope she’d be home for Christmas. Today, he can say, “The family doesn’t always understand the gravity of the situation. They need it explained.”

Jennifer Henderson, the nursing manager in the unit where Pam was treated, is often the person who does the explaining.

After spending 15 of her two decades as a nurse in the pediatric ICU, she has stood beside families through countless heartbreaking losses. Over time, those profound experiences have made guiding families through sensitive conversations about the end of life a comforting part of her care. “This may sound weird, but having the conversation about death feels natural to me,” she said. “It’s something I’ve learned to do.”

Henderson is gentle, but direct, in delivering news no one wants to hear. Chad said, “She knew the right words to explain that we were down to days, not weeks. It was time for us to decide where those days would be spent.”

Before that conversation, the Porters had imagined having Pam home, in familiar surroundings, when she passed. But Henderson explained what that would entail in a conversation Chad described as “the moment that meant the most to all of us.”

She told us, in the most professional, compassionate way, that it was time to figure out how we could celebrate the rest of Mom’s life,” Chad said. If they took Pam home, the family would need to bathe and feed her and manage her pain, all of which create even more stress. “If we went to hospice,” he said, “we could just be a family and not be caregivers.”

‘Faith got us through’

The family leaned on their faith a lot during Pam’s illness, especially as they considered how best to spend her last days. Their faith is central to who they are. “Our parents wanted us to have that foundation,” Chad said. “Faith got us through a lot as a family.”

Ultimately, the family chose hospice care, and Henderson made the arrangements.

Pam’s “last days were peaceful,” Chad wrote in his email. “It could’ve been very different if we hadn’t had a staff that cared so much. They set all this in motion.”

The family that was once convinced they’d take Pam home was glad they didn’t. Chad said, “I’ll bet there were 100 times my dad; my sister, Elise; and I looked at each other and said, ‘Boy, are we ever thankful we did not take her home.’”

The backbone of the family

“Nothing gets you ready for this,” Chad said of his mom’s passing. Not even the accident he endured as a teen that almost cost him his life and later inspired his best-selling memoir. Chad said his mom was the strong backbone of the family and “a selfless person who put everyone before herself.”

Pam Porter taught special needs kids for almost 30 years. “She was proud to do so,” Chad said, “but it’s a challenging job. Her students ranged from about 6 or 8 years old up to 21 years old, and she taught them all in one classroom.” Pam had some of her students in class for a decade or more.

She taught in the same public school where her husband, Mac, taught PE and coached. She instructed her students in life skills, including cooking, bathing, laundry and money management in what Chad said was “an amazing classroom with a full kitchen, washing machine and woodworking station.”

Her devotion to her students went beyond the classroom. She’d cheer them on in the Special Olympics, for instance. Chad would often join her, which he found “a life-changing experience” that inspired his philanthropy work. This includes serving as board chair for ACCESS of Wilmington, the group that built the Miracle Field, a rubberized baseball field where kids and adults of all abilities can play sports.

Pam’s “favorite thing on Earth was caring for her family,” Chad said, adding that she was extremely proud of her two grown children, Elise and Chad. And her grandsons, Tatum and Bodey, were the twinkle in her eye, he added.

The loss is hard for everyone, especially Mac. Chad’s parents met when Pam was 13 and Mac was 16 during a summer in White Lake, a little town in Bladen County where Pam’s parents had a house. “When Dad got his driver’s license, the first thing he did was pick Mom up for a date,” Chad said. “But her parents wouldn’t let them go far.”

Evenings are hard for Mac; that’s when the couple was always together. And although Mac doesn’t particularly enjoy gardening, he’s now tending the garden Pam planted and took care of. “He doesn’t want Mom haunting him,” Chad quipped.

Heartfelt thanks

After Chad emailed hospital leadership his praise for his mother’s care team, he wanted to do more. He kicked off 2026 by bringing his mom’s care team a taco dinner to express his gratitude.

Some of the people who’d cared for his mom were old friends. Chad worked as a physical therapist at New Hanover Regional Medical Center “back in the day,” he said. Nurse Kemia Truesdale and nursing assistant Shantay Ward were familiar faces who cared for his mom and comforted his family when they needed it. “To be able to see their faces and give them hugs meant everything,” he said.

Among new faces Chad was grateful to get to know were nurses Emiley Iuzzini and Robyn Banks, both of whom he said went “above and beyond.”

Chad’s acts of kindness deeply moved Henderson and her team. Chad said his “family will forever sing the praises of that unit” and that they “deserve all the credit in the world.”

“The staff looked after us as if we were family,” he said. “We couldn't have asked for anything better. If (Mom) had to go, this scenario was as perfect as it could’ve been.”