It is a personal honor to speak in this sanctuary. 

This church is very special place to all of us. 

We have celebrated many events here- Christmas midnight masses, marriages, Sunday morning sermons, and even choir practices.

My wife Carol, still to this day, does not believe I was actually a member of the Cherub and Junior choir here-

I think Sue and Kenny will attest to the fact of how good an Alto I was…  I’ll spare all of you my singing talents…

It’s kind of ironic standing in-front of the church.  I used to sit right over there.

As kids, we would often bet whenever Rev. Henry Wyman would give a sermon;-  if he would somehow weave in the phrase “The Spark of the Divine”. He often did.

As a youth, I never really understood the meaning of the Spark of the Divine, but it was really cool how Dr. Wyman would thunder it out so passionately with his New England accent. As a fellow Mainer, Gram always got a kick out of that.

It is good to be with my family and friends again after so many years. 

Today, this church bring us together for yet another celebration- the life of Eliza Waterman Davis.  Mother, grandmother, friend and pillar of the Patchogue community. We all knew her as simply--- “Gram”

Although I can only personally attest to the past 40 years or so of her life, most will agree with the late George Burns when he said: “If you live to be a hundred, you’ve got it made- very few people die past that age…”

Gram was very special to all of us in very personal, significant ways. In reflecting on what she meant to all of us, I thought long and hard.  Many things stood out- but none more than a very basic thing. 

The coffee table at 75 Thorne Street. We called it Gram Central station…

This was a place where all things that mattered to each of us were shared with Gram- the matriarch of our family.  The coffee table was an inner sanctum, a place to find solace from the hustle and bustle of a busy life- a place to regain a common sense perspective and the added energy to meet the day.

Her children, my aunts and uncles, would come and go at any given point during the day.  BJ, The Hodge, JJ, Georgie, Curt, Betty, Wilbur, The Dar, Sandy and Joyce.  They were the disciples of the coffee table. 

Gram raised her family to spread the love--- and that’s exactly what took place whenever anyone of her kids were present at the table. We have all benefited in our collective lives from each of them.  Cookie always says that apples don’t fall off pear trees. Once again he was right.

To my Aunts, Uncles and cousins:   Gram was immensely proud of all of you and loved you a lot-  I do too.

When you sat at the coffee table, you were always greeted with enthusiasm.  Gram had the unique ability to listen. She listened to our passion and guided us softly in the direction we chose.  She would always acknowledge your feelings making any problems more easily solved.  This was especially important to me as a teenager. It proved to be a very important and cherished part of my life. 

I used to cut classes in high school to drive over to Gram’s and be at the coffee table.   With Gram, it was always OK. Besides, I learned more at the coffee table anyway.

Gram was the ultimate mentor.  She recognized that we all needed the time and space to develop according to our natural process, to let our lives assume their own shape.  With Gram, it was never ever about her- it was always about YOU.  She enabled us to safely step out and risk failure, knowing that setbacks are simply lessons that helped to guide us. 

Gram was compassionate.  She had an egoless personality that encouraged empathy. She had the ability to cast off old skins and emerge free.  Gram could always forgive and forget.

I still can hear the sounds of the porch screen door opening and closing. The smell of fresh bleach when she was doing laundry.... To this day, some of these simple sights and sounds have become icons of 75 Thorne Street for me.A basket of yarn, summer pug noses from the maple trees, croquet mallets, fireflies in the backyard- and of course the infamous black iron pan that she used to cook scrambled eggs in.

A while back I was channel surfing and I heard the music from the TV Soap opera ‘Days of our Lives’.  Remember that?   In the summertime, there would always be fresh iced tea, complete with sliced oranges and ice cubes in that colored glass pitcher.

To this day, I doubt that any of us can look at an owl and not be reminded of Gram.  Maybe that’s why Uncle Roger was so fond of Hooters restaurants….

Gram embodied the essential goodness of human nature. From that coffee table, she has left within each of us a part of her own personality. 

She did this through seemingly simple, yet very carefully scripted, and deliberate efforts throughout her 101 years of life. As an adult, I have learned that this is a part of the ‘Spark of the Divine’-   what Henry used to preach about in his sermons here.

It is a quiet, but strong presence of conscience.  It is very real and it exists in each of us. It was Gram’s gift to all of us. It is a tribute to her legacy in seeing the wonderful family and friends that have emanated from that. She wants us to remember and use her gift of altruism. She wants us to pass it on.

Death is more universal than life. Everyone dies, but not everyone LIVES. Eliza Waterman Davis truly LIVED. Her memory will be embellished through each of us.

I know right now in heaven there is another coffee table. Aunt BJ, Aunt JJ and Uncle Roger are all sitting around it - waiting for Gram to arrive.  I can hear the Hodge teasing her as she arrives: “It’s about time you got here Chubby!”

She will still watch over us and we will all join her again one day.  I just hope they have a black iron pan when I get there. So when we return back to our daily lives of which Gram was so much a part of, we are going to miss her and feel a real void. 

All we have to do is look within ourselves, our families and friends to see that Spark Of The Divine, to once again feel the love of Gram.