By Melinda Michel
When your child’s life takes an unexpected path, one you have never navigated before, the road can feel daunting and, at times, impassable. The familiar markers of parenthood suddenly seem less relevant, replaced by questions you never thought of asking and challenges you never anticipated.
It’s at that stage when you need a guide, someone who has walked a similar path and can help you avoid the obstacles ahead.
For me, Pam Platt was that leader.
When my son, Jason (now called Yosef), began his religious journey in Israel almost 15 years ago, I found myself both proud and overwhelmed. I wanted to support him fully, but I lacked a deep understanding of the life he was choosing. The terminology, the practices and the expectations felt unfamiliar.
As I struggled to learn all I could about my son’s newly chosen lifestyle, people in the community all told me the same thing: You must speak to Pam Platt.
Pam was the mother of three sons, one of whom had moved to Israel and was much further along on the path of a religious life than my son. While there were many differences in our sons’ journeys, there was enough overlap that I could glean both wisdom and comfort from Pam’s experiences. She understood not only the logistics of this life, but also the emotional terrain: the mixture of concern and curiosity that comes with watching your child grow in a direction you did not foresee.
Our first meetings were simple: coffee, conversation and a long list of my questions. Pam answered everything with patience and warmth. She offered gentle advice on topics ranging from the laws of kashrut to expectations around modest dress, all delivered with kindness and good humor. There was no judgment in her tone, only reassurance. She never made me feel as though I should already know these things or that I was behind. Instead, she met me exactly where I was, guiding me forward one step at a time.
From those early meetings, our friendship grew naturally. Pam became my go-to when challenges arose, which, in the early years of this journey, was often. Whether I was navigating holiday observances, trying to understand new customs, or simply processing the emotional distance of having a child living in another country with a different lifestyle, Pam was there.
Her guidance was steadfast and deeply grounding. “The bond between you and your son is strong,” she would remind me. “Together, as a family, you will be guided by your love and figure out the logistics along the way.”
Her words were an anchor for me in moments of uncertainty. Pam had the extraordinary ability to distinguish between what truly mattered and what would simply work itself out over time.
Family was always at the center of Pam’s universe; it provided the foundation upon which she built all aspects of a multi-faceted and deeply honorable life. She modeled a way of loving that was both unwavering and flexible. Love, in Pam’s world, made space for growth, change and difference without ever compromising connection.
Out of our friendship, and the shared experiences it represented, something meaningful took shape. Pam and I recognized that we were not alone on our journeys. We each had friends in similar life circumstances: parents who loved their children deeply and felt unprepared for this new religious dimension of their lives.
So together, we became part of an intimate circle of support that eventually came to be known as the Parents of Religious Kids, or PORK, group. (The name was borrowed with respect and admiration from similar cohorts locally and in other cities.)
The PORK group emerged from a simple but profound need: to connect, to share, and to support one another without judgment. It became a space where we could ask questions we felt uncomfortable raising elsewhere, where we could learn from one another’s experiences, and where we could express both our pride and struggles openly.
There was always laughter in our gatherings, often at the absurdity of situations we never imagined we would encounter. But there was also deep empathy and understanding.
Pam was the matriarch of our group. She brought the same warmth, wisdom and steady reassurance to PORK that she had offered me from the very beginning. For all of us, PORK became a true sisterhood, rooted in compassion, honesty, and a deep love for our children.
And then, far too soon, we were faced with an unimaginable path: life without Pam. The sadness of her loss is profound and enduring. Pam fought cancer with remarkable courage on her own terms, meeting each stage of her illness with grace, elegance, and an unshakable sense of self. Throughout her illness, her spirit remained expansive, anchored in a deep and abiding love for her family and friends. She continued to offer strength to others, even as she carried her own burden.
In this final chapter of her life, Pam taught us new lessons: how to live with dignity, how to love without bounds, and how to face life’s greatest challenges without losing sight of what matters most. Her presence was a gift, and her absence is felt deeply. And yet, the values she embodied continue to guide us, just as surely as her words once did over cups of coffee.
Jewish tradition instructs us, “Find yourself a teacher, make yourself a friend.” In Pam, I found both. She was a teacher in the truest sense, not someone who instructed from a distance, but someone who walked beside me, sharing her knowledge with humility and compassion. And she was a friend whose presence brought comfort, perspective, and strength at a time when I needed it most.
What once felt like an impassable road became, in part because of Pam, a journey filled with connection, growth, and unexpected beauty. With every step I continue to take on this path, Pam’s legacy will live on. Her memory will forever be a blessing.
Melinda Michel is Assistant Vice President of Philanthropy Marketing at Kennedy Krieger Institute.
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