Nick’s Retirement Ceremony: Floating Through a Dream of a Day
For months I’ve struggled with how to describe Nick’s retirement ceremony. Below are the words and pictures I can only hope will do justice to the day marking the end of an incredible career.
September 1, 2025
“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.” 1 Corinthians 9:24-25
The Ceremony
Friday, May 16, 2025
When I woke up that morning, I was already floating. The sunlight pouring through the window landed like a promise.
It was a day of many things.
A ceremony.
A reunion.
A party.
Above all, it was a day of answered prayers.
The floating started the night before when friends and family began arriving from across the country. They joined us at my parents’ house for dinner and drinks. Just one night in, and I wrestled with our inability to freeze time.
Our only option was to savor it.
The floating continued Friday morning as I pulled breakfast out of the fridge. A church member reached out the week before asking if she could provide a meal for us while we were hosting so many out-of-town family members. In the flurry of preparations with so much to do, I teared up while texting her back, “That would be amazing.”
And breakfast was amazing. The casseroles, the cinnamon rolls, the fruit salad—all of it prepared with love by a heart of service.
I floated through breakfast, reflecting on all the ways we have been so intimately cared for by the church members and churches we’ve been part of during the last 24 years since this journey began, every bite of that breakfast representing each moment of spiritual nourishment and care owed to the Body of Christ.
We all got ready, and shortly after my parents and sister arrived from across town. Here, in our living room, Nick handed out the gifts he’d prepared—thank you notes hand-written on paper made from the fiber of his uniforms worn overseas during combat.
(More to come about this in a future story about the Station Foundation).
We left to join our guests at the shuttle pickup spot—and that’s when the massive reunion began. Family and friends from all over spilled out of cars, floating over to hug us.
The sun soaked around us and our photographer, my friend Lauryn, did her best to keep us in the shade as we hugged and chatted.
Military friends from our journey
We boarded the buses with family members, high school friends, Navy friends, Stanford friends, our church family. My cheeks already already hurt from smiling so much.
At the Command, Nick led a tour of the Memorial Garden, explaining its history and significance to the Command he’s worked at for most of the last decade. As he spoke, I bounced between friends and family marveling to see so many of our people in one place at the same time. It felt like our wedding day. Except 20 years later, we now had the wisdom to understand what made this day so unique.
I floated along with family and friends as we were shuttled to the boat barn. We took our seats, and Nick’s colleagues from his department and former squadrons filled the room.
Everyone took their places, and the ceremony began.
The ceremonial attendants Nick selected, known as the ‘Side Boys,’ created a passageway to welcome the arrival of the ceremony’s speakers to the stage.
I don’t think there are words to describe the pride in my heart hearing, “Commander, United States Navy, Nick Roberts, arriving.”
The ceremony began with the Star Spangled Banner. The beautiful performance felt extra special because the singer, Christine, is a nurse at the Command who has helped our family navigate medical roadblocks for the last eight years.
The ceremony continued as the pastor of our church campus—our friend and neighbor, Lee—led a beautiful invocation, thanking God for His protection and for Nick’s impact during his years in service.
Then the speeches began.
The Speeches
The Admiral spoke first. He spoke of Nick’s contributions to Naval Special Warfare and the command.
“Today is a tribute to a commitment to excellence.”
He spoke of Nick’s upbringing, the specific role of his parents and siblings in raising a boy with a warrior’s spirit.
“Nick’s mom taught him resilience and perseverance. She taught him to care for others in meaningful ways. And she taught him the importance of family and the bonds of love that accompany that.”
“Nick’s stepdad, Russ, taught him discipline and the importance of being respectful.”
He spoke about Nick’s siblings:
“In Nick’s relationships with his brothers we see the first signs of his propensity to be competitive in SEAL training. He and his brothers would spend countless hours running around outside planning and executing secret missions in the neighborhood. And at night they’d turn those missions against one another and hunt each other.”
The Admiral shared an overview of contributions throughout Nick’s career, including his most recent position.
“At the CDD, Nick managed $1 billion across a five-year resourcing cycle, shepherded 176 different investment projects. He negotiated countless defense industry agendas and contracts and supervised hundreds of military service members, government civilians and contractors. In this role, like all of his roles before, Nick was exceptional.”
Then he shared heartfelt messages from Nick’s co-workers, from chiefs to admirals.
“Nick was one of the best officers I’ve worked with. He was 100% professional at all times.”
“On a personal level, Nick’s a genuine guy who truly cares about his people.”
“Nick is an incredible family man. He and Peyton are the model standard for military families.”
“Nick is the most dedicated person in the community I’ve ever worked with.”
“Nick’s an absolute workhorse who always put his team first.”
“Abandon self. Embrace team. That’s Nick Roberts.”
Next, he spoke about our family.
“If you’re lucky, you have a love in your life who keeps things balanced, keeps things on track, and quietly calls the shots behind the scenes. For Nick, that was Peyton.”
“Peyton, your unwavering support has allowed Nick to serve at the highest levels.”
Then he told stories about the kids. Which absolutely made us laugh.
And he thanked our family.
“Roberts family—your sacrifices have been a lot. And because of that, today we acknowledge Nick’s service was never his alone. It was yours as well. And on behalf of the Navy, we thank you for your unwavering support.”
Next to speak was our dear friend Tuck. Twenty years earlier, almost to the day, Tuck and Nick graduated from the Naval Academy then began navigating the BUD/S years and their paths to the Teams. In 2012 when we moved from Guam, Tuck and his wife welcomed us to Virginia Beach and invited us to their church, where we’ve been attending ever since.
Tuck, who has had his own storied career in the Navy and at the Command, spoke of Nick’s impact professionally and personally. Beyond the uniform, all I could see was a dear friend.
And then—then. Then it was time for Nick to speak.
Nick’s Speech
Nick’s 25 minutes at the podium flew by as he thanked those in the room and beyond who worked with him along the way and led him to this moment, finishing well in an intense but significant career in Naval Special Warfare. He shared funny stories and literal war stories and highlighted the incredible work of his colleagues and teammates.
He thanked our families, Sadie, and Nate. Then he thanked me.
Nick finished his speech by reading a recollection of a dream I had weeks after we started dating. Until recently I hadn’t shared this dream with anyone, including Nick. In a moment, that story—which so perfectly fit this day—is shared below.
You Stand Relieved
After the speeches, the Admiral presented Nick with the final award of his Navy career.
Then our children came to the stage and spoke into the mic to a room full of hundreds of people. Sadie and Nate recited a poem traditionally read at Navy retirements called The Watch. Dare I say they stole the show.
Excerpt: While some of us were in our bunks at night
This SEAL stood the watch.
While some of us were in school learning our trade
This SEAL stood the watch.
Yes… even before some of us were born into this world
This SEAL stood the watch.
Today we are here to say
‘Dad … the watch stands relieved,
Relieved by those You have trained, guided, and led.
Dad, you stand relieved. They have the watch."
When the remarks were over, the ceremony concluded with a sending prayer.
“May the memories of service never fade but live on as a testament to a life well lived in defense of freedom.” —Pastor Lee
The Master of Ceremonies (our friend Brian) announced each speaker’s departure.
“In keeping with over 200 years of Naval tradition, Commander Roberts will now request permission to go ashore for the last time.”
Nick: “Sir, request permission to go ashore.”
Admiral: “Permission granted. Go ashore.”
For three months, I have wrestled with how to write about this moment. I’ve made peace with the fact that there simply are not words to describe how it felt hearing:
“Commander, United States Navy, Retired, departing.”
Nick passed through the Side Boys’ departing salute, his Navy career officially complete.
Next he walked to our row to reunite with our family. Arm in arm, together, we floated through the departing salute, ceremonially leaving the Navy.
Months later, I have tears in my eyes as I write this. That it really is the end.
I’m elated and also inexplicably sad. I look back to our wedding photos, when 20 years before, we walked through a similar archway of Nick’s uniformed friends moments after our Navy marriage began. With two wars underway, we had no idea then what lay ahead for us. And it’s strange to be at the point where that part of the story is now complete.
2005
2025
In the 20 years between sword arch and final salute, Nick and I have endured small eternities separated from one another when he left for endless training trips and served in combat zones in Iraq, Afghanistan, Africa, and Asia. We have said the hard goodbyes at airports and command high bays, sometimes with a baby in my arms, a toddler in a stroller, and an unspoken fear in my heart.
We have wept as dear friends became widows. As mothers lost sons. As young fathers didn’t make it home. As marriages collapsed amid the weight of it all.
We have packed up our house and moved across the country, across oceans, saying excruciating goodbyes to the best friends anyone could hope for, to churches that felt like family. We have leaned heavily on friends, parents, siblings, extended family, church members, Bible study members, teachers, and neighbors.
All along, I dared to wonder if Nick and I would make it to the end of this seemingly unpredictable game of chance. I never stopped praying we would.
In those dark moments when my heart felt heavy with fear, my thoughts drifted back to a dream. A dream I had when I was 18, when our story was just getting started.
Nick read about this dream to a packed boat barn in the last minutes of his speech—in the final moments of his military career.
The Dream
When I was 18, I had a dream.
Not just any dream. It was the kind of dream where you wake up and feel like you were transported somewhere else. The kind of dream where you remember every single detail, like the stain of the wood floors and the shade of polish on your nails.
In my dream, I was in a room full of tables decorated with red, white, and blue place settings and floral centerpieces. It was lunchtime. Nick was on a wooden stage flanked by patriotic flags in a well-lit room. He was giving a speech.
Somehow I knew, as you can only know in dreams, that it was his retirement party from the Navy. And I was there… as his wife.
The wife of Nick Roberts, the 18 year-old guy I graduated high school with three weeks before and had been dating for, yes, three weeks.
The guy who was 14 days away from leaving for the Naval Academy and wasn’t even in the Navy yet.
And yet somehow, somehow, my 18 year-old subconscious placed me as the woman who would accompany him through it all. Or perhaps all along, it was a vision from the Lord.
I told no one about my dream, but held onto it as one more piece of evidence nudging me in the direction of continuing this inconvenient courtship despite the challenging season ahead of long-distance during four years of college.
The dream remained a source of comfort as we decided to continue dating a thousand miles apart and, four years later, begin a long-distance marriage.
But once Nick entered the teams, the meaning of the dream changed.
The dream was no longer about me being Nick’s wife. Or about Nick staying on active duty for the full 20 years until retirement.
The dream was about Nick making it to the end. Living through it all. Playing the lottery that is being a Navy SEAL and somehow, somehow, making it to that stage.
That glorious stage.
The stage on which he would one day speak of what he learned in a career that asks you to shred your body and walk away from your family for your country.
He makes it. Mine makes it.
We make it.
Together still.
That is what I held on to. That was the dream. Being together in the room with that stage was the dream, serving as a quiet source of hope to carry me through our darkest days.
At 18 that stage was a dream. Today that stage is a hundred thousand answered prayers.
Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you, God.
Commander, United States Navy, Retired, Departing
September 1, 2025
The Station Foundation
Bozeman, Montana
Friends… Today, Nick’s 24-year Navy career has officially come to an end. We are so endlessly thankful for your love, support, friendship, and prayers throughout this journey. We thank God for His protection and providence in seeing us safely to this day and leading us to meet so many incredible people along the way, including in this glorious Year of Jubilee.
We hope each of you will share in our happiness and gratitude today, wherever you are, by lifting up our country’s service members and their families in prayer, that every family serving may see the joy of this day.
And to you, Nick: Thanks for choosing me to walk alongside you. I couldn’t be prouder. Let’s be us forever. So excited for whatever comes next—as one chapter ends and an incredible adventure continues.
2001: First day with Nick in uniform…
And the last.
Bonus Material
The command photographer did an incredible job capturing the emotion of the ceremony. So here are a few more favorites.
Thanks to everyone who was part of this day, in person and in spirit.
Roberts on the Road
Photo: Lauryn Moore Photography
For those just finding us, hello! Inspired by the Year of Jubilee in Leviticus 25, our family is on a yearlong RV road trip in 2025-2026 to celebrate my husband’s retirement after 20 years in Naval Special Warfare, as well as our 24 years together during the ups and downs of it all.
With our 12-year-old daughter and 9-year-old son in tow, this trip to explore America’s national parks and beautiful places is intended to help our family reflect and reset as civilian life begins.
Sign up below to receive updates about the trip, along with stories, photos, and reflections from 24 years of military service. We look forward to keeping in touch on this epic adventure.
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For background info on who we are and where we’re traveling, we’d love for you to read the intro post. The full list of road trip blog posts can be found here. Thanks for stopping by!
