Inge Cheatham, a name that I hold very near to my heart.

We were in no way, shape or form related by blood, but she was my grandma, my German grandma. She was a tall, vociferous woman, with a subtle accent that would become very thick when she became excited or when she was explaining something in German. I would visit as often as our schedules allowed, and she would spend most holidays with us. She lived in a charming home on the side streets of Montrose, Colorado, until December of 2014, when she just couldn't fight off her last encounter with cancer. She had been battling cancer long before I met her. I was hardly 4 years old, still hiding behind my mother's leg. She fought long and hard, conquering so much of the disease, but inevitably, it took her from us.

Losing her was beyond painful and still is, but Inge lived a beautiful life, filled with adventure, family, friends and good food and wine. She thought me endless lessons. Some were intentional, others not, but I have decided to share a few with all of you.

1. Any meal enjoyed in the company of others should be composed of as many courses as possible.

Four, five, six courses, you name it. If Inge made plans to have guests over for a meal, it was not designed to be a dine-and-dash affair. The meals were long, the conversations were endless and the food was always divine. The way meals should be.

2. Always use the fine china.

I can still remember the squeaking sound of the giant, wooden buffet opening. It was straight from Inge's childhood home in Germany. It contained all of her finest china and table settings. She would always explain to me that she found it funny that people no longer use their china. Why have it? She used all of it, not just for holidays or special occasions. "Any gathering with loved ones is special, my dear Sydney."

3. Greet everyone as if it is the last time you will see them.

This picture of Inge hugging her dear friend says it all. I cannot remember a single time that I was not embraced in the same manner. Whether it had been days or years apart, all of her greetings were so warm and loving. She would hug you until you felt like you were going to suffocate, and kiss both of your cheeks as she called you endearing names in German. She made every person that crossed her path feel as though they were the most precious sight her eyes had ever seen.

4. If an opportunity for a trip presents itself, always go.

I could sip my tea and listen to Inge talk about her worldly adventures for hours. Her travels were endless, and her stories were colorful and unique. She lived a simple life: a small home, a basic car, all of the necessities. She told me once that she would rather live the way she did and be able to travel than the opposite. Material possessions grow old, but memories and experiences are always as rich as the day you created them. She always, always, always went on a trip if she was able. I strive to have a passport that resembles hers.

5. If you know in your heart that something is true, stand firm.

I saw Inge fight tooth and nail on the daily for what she believed in. Whether it involved something serious with doctors or just a friendly "I'm right, you're wrong" conversation with friends, she would stand her ground. I so greatly admired this quality in her. Quite frankly, it is rare to come across these days.

The lessons I have learned from Inge could easily exceed a listen of 100, but I will keep it short with these five. I miss you, my dear Inge.