What the Changing Seasons Taught Me About Cancer and Life

Tamron Little was diagnosed with peritoneal mesothelioma in 2007 as a 21-year-old new mother. Catch up on Tamron's blogs here!

The first day of fall comes on September 22, and every year it feels like a reminder to pause. The air cools, the days shorten, and the world around us begins to change. The calendar may call it just another season, but I see it as a reflection of life itself.

As a cancer survivor, I have learned that life shifts just like the seasons. There were days of joy and growth, and there were seasons of waiting and uncertainty. There were even moments when I had no choice but to let go of what I thought my life would look like and trust God for what was ahead. Fall reminds me that change doesn’t have to be the end, it can also be the beginning.

Seasons of Life

When I think about seasons, I cannot help but connect them to my own journey as a peritoneal mesothelioma survivor. At just 21 years old, five months after giving birth to my son, I was diagnosed with this rare cancer and told I had only 18 months to live. That moment marked the end of one season of my life and the beginning of another that I never expected.

What was supposed to be a time of celebrating new motherhood became a season of fear, treatment, and survival. The fibroid tumor that had first been spotted during pregnancy did not simply fade away. It grew, leading to a surgery that revealed the truth: cancer. It was a season that tested me in every possible way, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

But just like the storms that nature brings, life’s seasons do not last forever. The winter of that diagnosis eventually gave way to a spring of hope when my mom, through a conversation with a coworker, connected me to a local specialist, one of the few in the country treating my rare cancer. That connection led to HIPEC surgery, a grueling 12-hour procedure followed by a long recovery. It was one of the hardest seasons of my life, yet it was also where I learned that resilience is born in the dark, and hope can bloom even in the coldest places.

Lessons From Transition

Each season holds its own lessons. Summer teaches us to soak in joy and light. Fall reminds us to release what no longer serves us, just as the trees let go of their leaves. Winter teaches patience and endurance, while spring shows us that renewal is always possible.

I have experienced these lessons firsthand. Cancer forced me to let go of the life I knew before, but it also taught me how to embrace the present moment with gratitude. I had to learn how to adapt, how to listen to my body, and how to lean on faith and community when my own strength ran out.

Now, when I watch the seasons shift, I see reflections of my own testimony. I see the ways I have been asked to release, to endure, to grow, and to thrive.

Thriving in Every Season

Thriving has become a theme of my life. Hence why I wrote a survivorship guide and devotional about thriving. At first, thriving simply meant making it through another day of treatment, another round of recovery. Over time, thriving became much more. It became about living fully in the season I am in, even if it looks different from what I imagined.

This year, as summer slips into fall, I am reminded of how far I have come. Doctors once told me I had 18 months to live, and this year I dropped my 18-year-old son off at college. That moment was the best example of a full circle moment. A milestone that once seemed impossible, yet here I was, experiencing it with tears of pride and gratitude. That is what thriving looks like to me: Being aware in my present day and experiencing the beauty of seasons I once thought I would never see.

Thriving also means being intentional. I protect my peace, I value my time, and I remain present wherever I am. It is not about everything being perfect. It is about living with purpose in the middle of imperfection. Thriving is about choosing joy even when life feels uncertain, and it is about allowing yourself to grow through every season, not just the easy ones.

A Time for Reflection

The changing of the seasons is also a call to pivot. Culture marks Labor Day as the unofficial end of summer, in the sense of fashion they remind us not to wear white. I break the fashion rules! It also reminds me that life is always moving forward. We cannot cling to one season forever. Just as the leaves fall to make way for new growth, we sometimes must release old habits, old fears, or even old dreams to embrace what is next.

As a survivor, I have learned to welcome these transitions with open hands. The seasons remind me that nothing lasts forever, not the winters of pain and not the summers of joy. Both are temporary, but both are also necessary. Each season shapes us into who we are becoming.

Moving Forward with Hope

So, what does the changing of the seasons mean to me? It means remembering that life is made up of chapters, and no chapter lasts forever. It means giving myself permission to grow, to release, to rest, and to renew. It means giving myself grace, celebrating milestones, big and small, as signs that I am still here, still thriving, still becoming.

This fall, as I watch the leaves change colors in my home state of North Carolina, and drift to the ground, I am reminded of God’s faithfulness in every season of my life. From the fear of diagnosis to the joy of advocacy, from the struggle of recovery to the celebration of dropping my son off at college, each season has carried its own lessons, and each one has revealed a new strength within me.

The changing of the seasons reminds me to keep moving forward with hope. No matter what season you are in whether it feels like winter, spring, summer, or fall know that change will come. Growth will come. Renewal will come. And thriving is possible, right where you are.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective as a breast cancer survivor. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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