Rather than warn us they can’t take it anymore, lightbulbs go out. They leave us no room for preparation, nothing noticeable during their last moments, and no mourning thereafter.
We’ve just always known to have a replacement on hand. To us, this event was never a matter of if. It’s certainty.
Through nothing more than a tempoary dark moment, the bulb is swapped out and we move on with the same level of brightness as before.
Surely we can do better than this. We can pay our respects, honor even the slightest of differences in each filament, and find ways to predict outcomes with more accuracy.
Seeing the light requires screwing it in first. Bright ideas don’t come from the dark.