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Tomorrow, Nov. 1, I will turn 4 again.

It’s a silly thing we say whenever someone in our family has a birthday. Everyone in our household is 4 going on 4. The joke started a few years ago after watching a “Gilmore Girls” episode in which Rory asks her mother if she is 4 after Lorelai interrupts her daughter a number of times about ice cream.

The idea of perpetually being 4 struck a chord with us as 4 seems to be the perfect age of innocence. You can get away with being cute and whiny, pout or be selfish without someone saying “act your age” because you are.

I will be “double 4” — a saying my husband started a few years ago when he turned 44. Our kids have celebrated various ages, such as 4 squared and other multiples of four. It’s amazing to me that I have reached 4 eleven times in my life.

Maybe I am surprised I made it this far.

I will get my turn eating birthday cake from our family’s “It’s Your Special Day” plate I bought many years ago when the kids were little.

I didn’t realize how strong this tradition was for our family until I mentioned the plate online a few years ago. After the mention, I was contacted via e-mail by a man who said that he had somehow destroyed his family’s special day plate that looked exactly like ours. He had been scouring the Internet trying to find one but would not insult me by offering to buy it.

His e-mail made me appreciate the tradition my own family had concerning this simple melamine plate. I was thankful he didn’t try to put a price on what the plate might be worth to him.

Nothing makes me feel old quite like the simple practice of lighting the candles of my birthday cake.

I’ve had many birthdays, some more memorable than others. Most were simple celebrations among family.

My ninth birthday was a favorite among my childhood birthdays.

Right before I turned 9, my mother let me pick out a figurine from the spinning display case at Food World on Summit Avenue in Greensboro. I picked out a ballerina figurine to go on my cake just because I thought she was pretty. It is packed up in the attic; a little worse for wear after breaking and being glued back together by my dad many years ago.

Since my birthday was on a Saturday, everyone was home from school and work. The weather was nice outside and fall was ripe. My Barbie case was set up in the living room since I had been playing there a lot in the days leading up to my birthday. I would come and go throughout the day.

On my birthday, each time I would pass by my Barbie case, I noticed a new handmade Barbie outfit set on the Barbie beds. My mother had made several different outfits and surprised me throughout the day by placing a new one on the case each time I walked away until I had all of them.

My mother was always so creative when it came to gifts and had a knack for giving just the right thing that fit us at the moment. I always smile when I remember that day because my family surrounded me with love in a very special way.

As an adult, my birthday has been celebrated in various ways. One constant between all of the celebrations is that we are all together at some point on that day to share a meal and some cake.

Togetherness is truly the best gift my family can give to me; especially as the days of our kids still living at home grow slim.
I believe there is a kid in each of us, especially when we are celebrating our birthday. I guess that is why it is fun for us all to celebrate being “4” more than whatever year we are actually becoming. It’s safer, too. It would be too great a fire hazard if we actually lit the number of candles we truly need!

Linda Vestal is a wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend living in Gibsonville. Contact her at lindavestal@triad.rr.com.