And that is not to say that he wrote in a diary or a journal.
Sometimes he wrote on overturned stones. Sometimes he wrote into the bark of a tree, on the back of a sleeping friend, or the back of a babbling brook. He left the message all about, to be found again the next morning.
And the message was this:
Dear Today Allister,
This is Yesterday Allister. We met in passing.
I bequeath to you this new day. It is yours. All this is yours.
Do as you will.
In the wake of my day, I ask that you not feel indebted to any gifts I may have left and that you also forgive me for any of my shortcomings. It was, after all, a different time.
Please follow our heart.
Think not of Tomorrow Allister. He will have his day.
And, if you are worried that I will be angry with any of your choices, please know that I will not. I am much too far away to see what is necessary for you today. And there is much to do. I do know that.
So, feel free to change as you will.
And you must change.
Each new day calls for it.
Each new day needs for it.
I remain,
Yesterday