It's not the same thing. And it's a good thing it isn't the same. No one would take kindly to a room of strangers dressed in dark morbid colors and staring teary-eyed at all an altar full of memories and keepsakes. So sad, too bad. But the facts remain facts.
Nobody feels kindly at funerals anyway.
There is never enough time to feel that way. They stand around, shake their heads and act personally-stirred, even if they hadn't sent a letter in ten years or had trouble remembering whether the object in the box liked the color green over blue. It's hardly natural. Still, the equation that divorce and death are somehow equal made me feel as if I should opt for a new, black wardrobe. I didn't buy one.