Funeral in Novi Sad

I went to a funeral the other day. It was my first here. In many ways, it was like funerals in the South(in the US, where I am from), but it was also very different.
The woman who died was a very nice lady that I had met before I went back to the US and that I had seen again just a week or so ago. She died suddenly and at a relatively young age.
The night before the funeral, we went to visit her family...to pay a condolence call. I was able to meet her husband, her two daughters and a son-in-law. All of them were warm and friendly people.
It is traditional to drink a little rakija (brandy) with the family "for the soul" of the departed. I think this is a lovely tradition. Everyone spoke quietly of the one who was missing from the table. I think my companion brought comfort to the husband and family, and hopefully I did not detract.
Like so many of the young people here, one of the daughters spoke English and seemed to enjoy my being there. We spoke of her children and mine and looked at photographs. She spoke of her interests and aspirations. I think I have made a new friend.
The next day, we all rode on a chartered bus to the very large cemetary here. This woman was employed at a school, so the bus was arranged for by the school. Many teachers and staff attended the funeral.
Once we arrived at the cemetary, we viewed the body and then waited a little while and were ushered in to a large room where the casket and a large flower cart holding all of the flowers people brought was wheeled in.
Members of her family spoke about her and her life. A recording of what we would call "Taps" began to play and we all filed slowly out. As we processed down to where the grave site was, silently and slowly, this music expanded into a beautiful anthem of some sort. I am assuming that this is played traditionally at funerals.
As we walked, the flower cart was first, followed by a man carrying a wooden marker with her name on it and the year of her birth and her death. Then several men carried the casket. The immediate family came next and then everyone else...friends and other relatives.
At the grave site, the daughter chose a floral arrangement provided by the family and it was buried on top of the casket itself. A few family members stepped forward and put in a handful of dirt. Then, very solemly, the dirt was filled back in.
As we left the grave site a small table was set up with a container of water for washing hands and a towel, a very large loaf of bread and small paper cups of rakija. My companion told me that this was a tradition as well. I was to take a little bread and eat it and then take a small cup of rakija. I was told to pour just a drop out on the ground...an offering for her soul, as before and then drink the rest. Then, we continued on to the bus.
The bus took us back to the school where a reception was set up with food and drink. The family and those who wanted to were welcomed by school staff and we spent some time there, speaking quietly.
This whole experience was touching to me. It reinforced what I have already come to know...life is so short and can change so quickly. All we really have in the end is love. This woman's husband loved her very much as did the rest of her family and friends.
There must have been about 100 people at this funeral. Where I am from, that is alot of people for a funeral of someone who is not in the public eye.