There was a certain young man who owned a plot of land, which he had, through hard work and determination, treated and plowed, preparing to plant a crop. Surrounding his plot of land, were his neighbors, friends, and family, who also owned plots similar to his. Some of his neighbors had owned theirs for many years; others were only breaking the soil, just like the man. The neighboring plots produced different types of grain: some barley, others wheat, still others oats, and so on. Each field was unique and the crops produced were of superior quality, but all of them were grain.
The young man stood one day and gazed over his empty, prepared field, pondering over his soon-to-be-planted crop. He turned to his left and examined the happy field of his family. He turned to his right and scanned the lush field of his wife's family. Further in the distance, he saw the green fields of his friends.
As the young man pondered on all he saw he thought to himself "The fields of my friends and family have grown lush and I could want for nothing if I patterned my own field after theirs. And, yet, is there not grain enough in our valley? We have enough and to spare. Surely, there are other things to grow beside grain."
And so the young man, with his wife at his side, went in search of their own crop, a crop on which they could raise their family and begin their life. They looked long and hard, searching for just the right crop. But they soon realized they had a problem: they wanted to plant all sorts of different plants, to see how each would grow. They found that many plants intrigued them. Beans, spinach, tomatoes, fruit trees...the list went on and on. After awhile the young man became overwhelmed. "We cannot grow all of these things! Where would we find the room?"
His wife, who was wise, said something the young man took to heart: "Perhaps we can grow one crop for a few years, enjoy the fruits of our labor with our children, and then grow others the next year. Maybe we don't have to grow just one crop!"
Deciding that there was much to admire about this plan, the young man and his wife set to work, planting a new crop. His neighbors to the left said, "This will never work! You will make our work look foolish with it next to yours! You will shame our own crops!" And, yet, the young man and his wife persisted, finding joy in the work they were doing.
The neighbors to the right said "Don't plant right now. Wait awhile and come enjoy time with us in our field or in the fields in the distance." And, still, the young man and his wife persisted, admiring all the while the work of their neighbors, but knowing they had work of their own to do and that they were running out of time.
Soon, the field was fully planted, the dirt wet with fresh water, and the sun shining down on the young couple's work. With their neighbors shaking their heads in the distance, the couple clasped hands and waited with eager anticipation to see what would grow in the coming months, all the while faithful that those tiny seeds would blossom, sprout, and produce fruit for them and their children.
He who has ears to hear, let him hear.
Every August, we find ourselves in the same state: packing, throwing away, cleaning, crying, and moving on. 
Here I sit in our empty apartment on the night before we leave "the world we thought we lived in", to sappily quote Mika. The walls are bare, the place has been cleaned from top to bottom, and this is waiting for us in the parking lot: 
If that doesn't send you to the medicine cabinet for a quick Immodium, you've got nerves of steal and I could really use you tomorrow morning at 6 in the AM.
