No, no, no - she hasn't died, thank god. But she expressed interest in this northeastern U.S. specialty, and I feel I must post the recipe as tiny iota of gratitude for all the entertainment and wonderful recipes she provides.
Funeral pie is a raisin pie. I expect it came to be known as funeral pie because you never knew when you'd have to provide one to a bereaved relative or friend, and raisins were always in season, unlike peaches or blueberries. Sure you could make pies of dried apples or other things, but the shock of the death may have left you unable to deal with mixing mincemeat or roasting pumpkins. Raisins make practically fast-food pie.
This recipe comes directly from The Bentley Farm Cookbook, by Virginia Williams Bentley, 1974. Mrs. Bentley grew up in Newton Centre, Massachusetts, where she ran away from home once because her stepmother tried to make her eat a ghastly gristly beef stew. It led to a lifetime of wanting to cook well. She requires custards to be strained to avoid those tiny strings of twisted albumen, which I think is excessive. I don't make a lot of things from her cookbook, because she's very 30s-50s/casserole/middle-American in her cooking, but some of her recipes are too mortifyingly good to pass up - like Frannie's Cheese Pudding (buttered bread cooked in milk with a huge amount of cheddar cheese, and some onion), and Company Casserole - a medley of some sort of ground meat (originally beef, but fake vegetarian or turkey work for me), tomato sauce, noodles, cottage cheese, cream cheese, sour cream, and scallions. It is grotesquely wonderful.
I can't vouch for this recipe because I've never made it. I like raisins a lot, but not in such quantity. I want them in fruitcake, and cinnamon rolls, and oatmeal cookies.

My raisins and currants currently waiting in a rum bath to be made into seventeen pounds of fruitcake.
But I have a feeling this is a good pie. I had a piece of raisin pie at some church supper once, and it was surprisingly pleasing. Mrs. Bentley wrote her cookbook in Danville, Vermont, and in spite of her mention of New Jersey, I figure this is the classic New England recipe.
Virginia Bentley's notes and recipe:
"So called in New Jersey, in the old days, because it appeared often at the imposing collations provided by neighbors at the time of a funeral, and the ingredients were at hand throughout the year. Don't let the name turn you off. Some of the best food in the world has been served after funerals, causing the mourners to cheer up and want to go on living."
Ingredients:
a baked pie shell
Bring to a boil these ingredients: 1 cup raisins (seeded);1 cup water; 1/2 cup sugar.
Heat 2 tablespoons of butter in a pan large enough to hold all ingredients, and stir in well 3 tablespoons of flour.
Pour hot raisin mixture into this slowly, stirring constantly. Stir until thick.
Beat two egg yolks with 1 teaspoon grated lemon rind and three tablespoons of lemon juice. Mix and stir into above raisin mixture after it is removed from stove.
Cool thoroughly and pour into baked pie shell. Cover with meringue, and bake at 325 degrees for 10-15 minutes. (Or you could skip the meringue part and have it open face)


Salon.com
Comments
I do love old cookbooks. They are glimpse into the past, a slice of history pie, if you will. It is an intriguing recipe, but I'm more intrigued by your seventeen pounds of fruitcake! How do you keep from nibbling away at the rum-drunk raisins if they're sitting on the counter like that?
The other weird old pie I'm interested in is fake apple made with Ritz crackers. I have never understood that one, and think I really should try it, if only for science.
Bell - Maybe on some grim February day when there is nothing better to do, I will get myself to perform that fake apple pie experiment. You can expect all the details. I will document my fruitcake making this week for you, as well.
Joan H. - I'd rather have lemon meringue pie served at my funeral, if I were to have a funeral, which I won't. Or rhubarb.