You probably won’t hear it from him. He’s too humble to tell you. But I have a constant reminder. Every 12 hours I take medicine designed to keep my body from rejecting the kidney donated to me by my brother, Wyatt Roberts. In August 2005 my brother moved to our home state of Mississippi, had his kidney surgically removed, and faced months of recovery – for me. And for that I am, and forever will be, grateful. I love you, Wyatt.