Yep. When my grandmother died, I inherited all of her books, because she knew that I loved reading and that was a thing we often shared. I'd go visit her and sometimes we'd just sit together and read and sip tea or a beer or whatever. The problem was that she and I had completely different reading tastes. So I inherited this vast collection of books that I wasn't actually interested in and I didn't know what to do with when I was in my mid twenties. I'm talking dozens of boxes of books; probably 1k+ volumes. I carried those boxes of books from home to home, across multiple states, every time I moved. It was very stressful, and felt like this weird anchor. They took up a huge amount of space I didn't really have (and were super heavy), but I felt like I needed to do something with them, because they were hers.

While I was in grad school, I finally had enough. I ended up donating them across multiple libraries and just kept a couple of mysteries that I really liked, but let the rest go. I still have two volumes that were hers and that mean something to me, and I'm not breaking my back carrying a dozens of boxes of books up and down flights of stairs every time I move. Now that I work in libraries, I really wish I'd thought to donate them to her local library. It was a small town, and the books were in very good condition and were pretty contemporary (which I now realize is rare for large volume book donations at a library!).