Dr. J to some... Dad to me.

I don't have children of my own (yet, one day...) but I'm constantly amazed at my friends as they transition into parenthood. What a whirlwind, opportunity, challenge and blessing - all at the same time. It's hard to put words to such a magical thing. Raising children is the ultimate sacrifice of love.

My parents took that sacrifice seriously.

My mom grew up in Concord and my Dad in Rocky Mount, NC. They met in Winston-Salem while they were in graduate school. 

They grew up in Southern Baptist, blue collar families with strong Carolina roots. They value tradition, mother nature, loving our neighbors, and most of all - the Lord. 

My dad is a retired Radiologist, endearingly known as "Dr. J" around Alamance County. Growing up, he was "on call" most weekends for the hospital. At 3 am, he'd go in at the drop of a hat (more like a pager beep) to see sick patients.

 

My mom was home, raising three headstrong Jordan girls (Mom, I wonder who we get it from??) and their busy schedules (true, sacrifice).

When Dad wasn't on call or entertaining his daughters, he wasn't playing golf or drinking at the brewery.

He was on the road driving North Carolina's highways, visiting family, checking on Grandparents and Great Aunts and Uncles.

I come to see now, how much he valued family, giving up his precious free time to take care of others. 

 

As the youngest, I had the privilege (I used to say burden), of tagging along. 

"Well... We'll see you soon, we're grabbing Bridge's for lunch...You have somethin to drink there?" My dad hollered through the speaker phone to my half-deaf Great Uncle Gene as we sped down HWY-74 to Shelby.

"Oooo E! Swallo-yer tongue! Sounds good. Bec loves homemade lemonade!"

I grinned back at him, nodding.

 

Gene, my Grandma Betty's brother, and Rachel had no kids of their own, so dad spent summers there growing up, taking the train from Rocky Mount to Shelby to work the farm. 

Today, my dad has farmland and loves to garden, hunt, and spend time outdoors - all thanks to Gene.

It's funny how childhood traditions can turn into passions.

 

 

Today, the childhood tradition of "pinching Pennies" with my dad is now my passion, helping the world Stay Cheesin!

 

Also, thanks to him, I am passionate about spending time with family. 

From Denver, Colorado, to one neighborhood over in Charlotte, I am the happiest when I'm with my people.

Whether you're hitting the highway or Facetiming in for Father's Day, a friendly reminder that it isn't about the gifts, it's about quality time together.

You never know, those "traditions" may turn into passions and life-altering journeys...

Happy (early) Father's Day, Dad. Thank you for sharing your passions. Piedmont Pennies wouldn't be here without you.

 

 

Stay Cheesin!

Becca

 

P.S. Father’s Day can be rough for those without their dads — whether it’s the first year without him or one of many, please know I’m holding space for you. My heart goes out to you with so much love and prayer ❤️

 

More background:

Piedmont Pennies cheese straws are my Grandbetty Jordan's recipe from Rocky Mount, NC. We called them "cheese Pennies" growing up, and the warm smell of cheese and butter to this day takes me back to the holidays, the kitchen filled with family, warm dishes, open beverages, and laughter.

--> If you're looking for a similar smell, order Pennies online and heat them in an oven-safe bowl at 375 Fahrenheit for 3-5 minutes, just until toasty. Or, check out our Sausage Ball recipe... I promise BOTH will be devoured...