When Tricia Hendry was widowed by suicide, she sought ways to support her three young children through their grief and to move forward together. That journey sparked a lifelong commitment to helping others navigate loss and life’s tough challenges. Over the past 25 years, she has offered compassion, insight and practical support to countless individuals. Tricia sat down with SALT magazine to share her story and offer honest, helpful strategies for facing the often unspoken realities of grief and loss.

‘I never expected to be working in the field of grief, trauma and mental wellbeing, but life catapulted me there,’ shares Tricia. ‘I just instinctively began to do what I wish someone could have done for me—give me a better understanding about grief and mental health and how to cope with their unexpected twists and turns.’

Tricia describes her late husband Michael as a highly respected Baptist pastor.

‘He was sought after for all kinds of ministry and always went willingly. He had a particular heart for people who were in mental distress and had been through traumatic experiences,’ explains Tricia. ‘Grief was very much a part of Michael’s journey. He lost his older brother through suicide when he was 14, a younger sibling soon after birth and a grandparent who he had been close to. Just months before we were married, his mother died suddenly. I realised that he lived with deep grief.’

Tricia and Michael met and married in their early twenties, both pursuing teaching careers before sensing a call to ministry. After working with Baptist youth in Wellington, they moved to Auckland to serve full-time with Baptist Youth Ministries. Michael later trained at theological college to be a Baptist pastor, serving in two Auckland churches. Tricia, Michael and their three children returned to Wellington, where he became senior pastor at Miramar Baptist Church.

‘We had many years serving together and doing lots of pastoral care and creative ministry. We lived on the smell of an oily rag, but loved the privilege of being able to teach, nurture and support others.

‘Then, out of the blue, Michael took his own life,’ shares Tricia.

‘In the early days, I was stunned. I didn’t have a plan B. I’d assumed we’d always do ministry together. I had three bewildered children aged two, six and eleven to care for,’ says Tricia.

Tricia describes her grief arriving like a tornado that lingered and caused havoc.

‘I tried really hard to protect my children from the huge impact of their loss but, despite my best efforts, their grief—and mine—was intense and frustratingly unpredictable.’

Comfort in community

Tricia describes Michael’s death as very public. She recalls how challenging it was going out and dealing with comments and intrusive questions.

‘People want you to be strong for them and they’ll often tell you how strong you are. I remember being in the supermarket, looking truly pale and dreadful, and a friend telling me how wonderful I looked and how proud she was of me for moving on so well. She needed the mess of my loss tidied up because it made her uncomfortable. I soon learned I could unsettle others by simply being in the same place as them. That felt awful.’

Tricia will always be grateful for many wonderful people who supported her and her children during this time. She recalls finding $20 anonymously in her letterbox when she desperately needed it, and being given a bunch of flowers impulsively picked from her own garden by a passer-by, as two of the most beautiful expressions of love she received.

Early on the morning Michael died, a woman who lived around the corner from Tricia was woken by God with a message: ‘I’ve got a message for you to give to Tricia’. Though initially rather annoyed at being disturbed on the one morning she got to sleep in,
she decided she’d pass it on when she next saw her.

On hearing the news of Michael’s passing the following morning, the woman delivered a note to Tricia. It read: ‘Tricia is precious in my sight’.

Tricia also received a visit from an older Scottish woman she described as a prayer stalwart. Her home was full of people, many in tears, overwhelmed by grief. Amid the chaos, the woman asked, in her Scottish accent, ‘Tricia, how long have you been a practising Christian?’ When Tricia answered what seemed like an odd question to ask at the time, the woman replied, ‘You have been practising for a moment like this’.

Tricia recalls, ‘It was so powerful, so direct and honest. God chose two people I would truly hear. No mistake.
I thought, God’s got this. Our brains and hearts don’t, but God does.

‘I remember being alone in my room and thinking that I’d felt something like this before. I recognised the deep yearning. In my teens, my father’s work had taken our family to live in Germany and then Argentina. Leaving close friends to come back to New Zealand was an extremely difficult transition for me I now realise it was my first experience of grief, but we just didn’t call it that,’ Tricia shares.

Learning about loss

Tricia describes herself as a natural information-seeker and she began to read widely about trauma, grief, suicide and mental health.

‘I didn’t know anyone else bereaved by suicide and I wanted to learn more for myself and my children,’ she explains. Tricia’s quest for understanding and insight led to an opportunity to write and develop support resources for the newly established Skylight Trust, a specialist grief and trauma organisation.

Tricia spent 15 years at Skylight Trust, where she trained, supported and empowered individuals navigating trauma, loss and grief of all kinds. In 2014, she transitioned from her role as deputy chief executive to work independently as a writer, presenter and educator across a wide range of organisations and government agencies. She also offers professional supervision to frontline workers in the helping professions.

‘Last year, I trained Mental Health Foundation staff about suicide, and I thought: How did I get here? My work has taken me to many places I haven’t asked to go. I always feel honoured, and I know that I am walking on sacred ground. I know that somewhere in the room there is someone going through some form of loss. I can talk honestly with people about the most difficult things, and I can facilitate the space and the conversations,’ shares Tricia. ‘And I sense God goes with me. He has remained my still point.’

Tricia has since married her second husband Adrian Hendry, but spent 10 years on her own. She recalls weekends and holidays being especially hard, watching other families head off to enjoy time together.

‘I tried so hard to be both mum and dad,’ she says, ‘but we all knew someone was missing.’

Tricia explains, ‘Loss is woven through every stage of life. It comes in many shapes and sizes, not just through death. There are many living losses, such as an unhappy or estranged relationship, moving house or a job loss. People might experience a loss of security, homesickness, being in prison, financial difficulty or losing the future they’d imagined. Living with health conditions, infertility, injury, chronic pain, dementia or reduced mobility can also bring much loss. We might say we’re just sad, stressed, upset, angry or disappointed by what happens, but they’re actually signs of our grief.

‘When I speak about loss, people often come up to me and say, “I’ve never told anyone this but…” Honesty begets honesty. We need to talk about loss and grief, and I know God has asked me to do this. I don’t mind putting things on the table, because people can then look at it and chat about it. And, after all, God knows all about grief—the Bible describes so many grieving people experiencing loss, including Jesus.

‘When my first grandchild was born, I found myself sobbing and asking, “Why is his grandfather not here?” God hasn’t made my grief go away, but he’s walked beside me as it comes and goes, shoulder to shoulder. Haggai 1:13 says “‘I am with you,’ declares the Lord”, and for me that’s deeply comforting.

‘I’ve always worked from the premise: Lord, I’m happy to do any of this, but you bring the opportunities and the people, and we’ll go from there, together. I can speak honestly and without fear about things others often find difficult. I know this helps bring relief because many people want a chance to talk about what’s difficult, or to at least to have it acknowledged. When we understand our grief more, we’re better able to express it, experience it, and to move forward and build our lives out around it, step by step.’

To learn more about or to work with Tricia, visit www.triciahendry.com