Growing up in the midwest, summer felt limitless. The sun didn’t set until after 9 o’clock. There were just as many hours to play with the neighborhood kids after supper as there were before. School ended just before Memorial Day and didn’t begin again until after Labor Day – a full thirteen weeks of summer break. Glorious!

Then the days got shorter and the air began to cool. We sensed summer coming to an end. A new school year was just ahead with autumn right on its heels, bringing the excitement of new teachers and classrooms, old and new friends, and the exhilaration of crisp fall winds blowing puffy white clouds across the cornflower blue of a midwestern sky. Crunchy brown, yellow, and red leaves littered the sidewalks, and children threw on sweaters and hoodies to skateboard and bike home from school. The smell of decomposing leaves and damp earth, the chilly air, and the scent of burning logs from a bonfire kindled memories of seasons changing in years gone by.

In the desert southwest, summer seems to draw to a speedy close. It’s not getting particularly cool yet, nor are the leaves changing color, but August brings an early start to another school year, and the change of seasons creeps up subtly but noticeably. The cyclical nature of seasons plays its role here just as in the center of the country, but the hints of change are different and unique to this clime.

An evening walk brings a welcome respite from the furnace-like heat of the day. It’s still warm, but now pleasantly so, especially when the chance to walk through the mist of a neighbor’s sprinklers presents itself. The day’s normally cloudless azure sky, bright and hot with the golden sun, fills with precipitous clouds and the threat of a dust storm or a downpour. The swimming pool will remain blissfully warm for another month or two, but as the daylight hours decrease towards the winter solstice once again, we’re just one monsoon away from hanging up our swimming suits for another season.

Life is full of seasons and cycles, routines and patterns. We both thrive on them and grow bored with them. We need them, and we need to break away from them sometimes as well. I’ve experienced the transformation from summer to fall more than fifty times in my life. Each time brings back vivid recollections of previous transitions, but also generates new feelings and expands upon past traditions and memories.

Though the coming of a new school year and the imminence of the fall season arrive in a radically different way where I live now, the familiarity of the seasons’ cyclical rhythm provides a comforting foundation no matter where one lives.

Six months have run their course since I concluded my one year of blogging about my experiences as a parent of transgender twins. As I’ve approached this small landmark, I’ve felt strongly the familiar cycle of back to school and the approach of fall. Alongside the familiar I’ve also felt an undercurrent of a new transition, a new season.

My twins begin their third year of college in just a few weeks. They have grown so much in their independence and self-awareness. I love that they don’t need me the same way they used to. I don’t need to help one pack up to move back into the dorms. I don’t need to help the other move from one apartment to another. I don’t need to do their laundry or shop for their groceries.

Still, they do need me to share their joys and setbacks. They do need me to help advise on finances. They do need me to send them recipes they remember and want to create in their own kitchens. I love the new ways of being needed, and I am reminded that I need them, too. When I am feeling insecure and need to hear something encouraging, I know if I send a message to our family group, my twins will almost always be the first to reply with an, “I love you, Mom.”

Earlier this summer, I had the misfortune of being in a car accident. My car was totaled by a driver who ran a red light. I came away with severe bruises, airbag burns, and a need for counseling and a chiropractor, but I’m on my way to a full recovery. Had the other vehicle struck mine two seconds later, the point of impact would have been directly into my door, so we’ve all had to take some time to process how serious this was and how much worse it could have been. All of my children expressed such concern for me and made me realize how important I am to them. My oldest told me he didn’t know what he would have done if I had been more seriously hurt or worse. Our local twin had just arrived home for the summer and provided invaluable support for me immediately following the collision as well as throughout the remainder of the summer. During his one week visit home, the other twin offered exceptional understanding and empathy. I was and continue to be reminded of how significant family and relationships are in this experiment called life.

I no longer have little children who are anticipating their first day back to school, though I am reminded of those precious days frequently right now by Facebook memories of my sweeties. There is nostalgia and a little sadness over those photos, but with the cycle of seasons transitioning once again, the sadness is joined by a new feeling of positive memories, good times shared, and the origination of solid parent-child relationships.

When I concluded my blog back in February, I focused on the power of acceptance. Over these past six months, I have continued to develop my habit of acceptance – of myself, of my children, of my circumstances, and of all of life with its ups and downs. It truly has brought more peace than any other remedy I’ve tried.

In addition to acceptance being my word of the year, I decided that I wanted to enter a Season of Yes. For me that means saying yes to things that would normally produce an immediate negative response, being willing to try something new or scary, stepping out of my comfort zone yet another time. The start of a new year for the school at which I am employed brings the perfect opportunity to embrace this Season of Yes. Yes to myself. Yes to my husband. Yes to my children. Yes to my friends. Yes to life. Yes to challenges. Yes to adventure. Yes to uncertainty. Yes to ambiguity.

I don’t know if the Season of Yes is just another cyclical pattern that will ebb and flow in times to come, but I do know that I am enjoying where I am right now. One day at a time, saying yes to things that are difficult, but realizing as I do that I have more power within me to take positive actions in my own life and build up those around me, not through demanding certain behaviors from them, but rather through accepting them just as they are and as they choose to be. If the good news Jesus taught is really true, I’m pretty sure it looks a lot like that.