A big brother is a lot of things. Mine is creative, for starters. He built me my first playhouse out of a large cardboard box, complete with windows and door. He also put tacks on the piano keys so it would sound like a harpsichord, which probably did not thrill my mom, but gave me hours of enjoyment for many years before we finally took the tacks out. He took me for motorcycle rides, he encouraged us to do family bands, he always had something up his sleeve.
He is generous. For Christmas every year, he always gave me the best presents. My favorite was a cat, which my mom and dad knew nothing about. My joy was matched by my mom's dismay in equal measure, but I adored him for it! He is also generous to others in a quiet, giving way, from providing a home to someone who is dying, to offering financial assistance to a friend or relative when they need it, to being there to listen when you are upset about something.
He is an artist, like our mom, and is equally good at painting and photography, both of which I envy. His photos always have a special something, he has the eye for a shot, that mine lack, even when we shoot at the same thing.
He is musical, (he got that from mom, too,) and can play any instrument simply by picking it up. I am envious, in the nicest possible way, because he is talented in a way I can only dream of. (It's really not fair, both artistic AND musical!)
He is practical. He can build anything, he can fix anything, he can make something out of nothing and he makes it look easy.
He is fun. I have had many hours of laughter with him. (Granted, at times it has been at him, not with him, but that is the right of a little sister!) Perhaps the hardest I have ever laughed in my life was in the back of beyond in Alaska, where he lives, and he was taking me on a hike where few people have ever gone. One great thing about going with him is that he knows the places tourists never go, so you get to see the "real" Alaska, untouched and pristine. (Roughly translated, that means a million rugged miles into the mountains and no people anywhere if you get into trouble.) There was a huge mud hole in our path, with trees on both sides, so if we were to continue on our way, he had to go through it. I didn't think he would make it, the hole was too deep and too wide, but he was filled with confidence. I got out of the jeep and took photos as he gunned the jeep and flew into the pond. I rapidly dissolved into fits of laughter as the jeep slowed and gradually sunk into that pond. Of course, then we were in big trouble, because we were stuck and no way out, but my brother was filled with optimism that somehow it would all work out. And sure enough, a guy came along in a truck with a winch, and pulled us out.
He is faithful, to his God, to his family, to his friends. My brother is someone you can count on in any situation.
He is prepared, as a good Boy Scout should be. If you spend time with him, you will find he is ready for any situation. Seriously. It never ceases to amaze me how prepared he is for the crazy stuff life throws at us. (Just like my mom, and yes, there is a theme, here....)
He is mellow. Like my mom (again,) he takes things as they come, and he rarely gets mad. (Although when he does, he might smack you with a rolled up newspaper, especially if you try to change the channel!)
He is loving, and he acts on it in practical ways to make the lives of his family better. From building houses to repairing everything that breaks to helping with whatever else you need, he is there for you.
From the first day I laid eyes on him to this day, being his sister has been a journey. He is imperfect, as we all are, and he has made his mistakes, as we all do. He will be the first one to tell you what he got wrong, to help you avoid making the same mistakes. I respect and admire him more than I can possibly articulate, for the totality of who he is. It is easy to take for granted those with whom we are in close relationship, and I do that as much as anyone. But I had an experience which really made me see my brother in a new light some years ago, which has really stuck with me.
We were in Alaska, again, in another stunningly beautiful back of beyond location on our way to McCarthy. As usual, my brother had brought everything but the kitchen sink, his work trailer filled to the top with anything that we could possibly have wanted. We had pulled over and parked in a parking lot, and I was standing by the trailer alone when a woman came up to me and asked if I knew Charlie Overby? Well, since his name was plastered on the side of the trailer, it was pretty obvious I did, so I said that yes, I knew him. (I had no idea at this point what she wanted, so I didn't want to be chatty. You just never know what people are up to these days.)
Well, I had the opportunity to see my brother through someone else's eyes that day, and it was pretty amazing. She had a lot of really nice things to say about him, and she finished up by telling me I was lucky to know him. I never told her he was my brother, it didn't seem necessary. That moment was really about him, and I appreciated him in a whole new way. Like I said, I have never forgotten that, because it brought home to me that not only do I think he's great because he's my brother, but other people do, too, and for all the right reasons. It made me so proud to be his sister, and to know how well he is thought of by people who hardly know him. That is a pretty cool thing.
So, if you know my brother, wish him a very happy birthday today. He is a great person, and deserves to be honored for his 70 years of living and giving and loving and creating and uplifting and supporting and being.
I feel very fortunate to be the only person in this world who gets to have him for a brother. I could not ask for a better one, from start to finish. Happy birthday, Charlie, from one of your biggest admirers. I know I don't say it often, but I love you very much.
