Fiorella's brother unloaded two stacks of family memorabilia on her, and she is both thrilled and overwhelmed. Dad's high school graduation picture hit her hard, and the elementary school essay on Christopher Columbus by her uncle Russel, who died of a burst appendix when he was fourteen, made her cry. Then there were Mother's report cards and the carefully preserved receipts for her payments on the loans she had to take out to pay for her final years of college.
The emotion is overflowing, but so are the chairs in the front room. So are the shelves in the bottom of the china hutch and the shelves beside the front room fireplace. How can Fiorella respect the memories that were precious to her parents, Husband's parents, and those back down the line without setting up a fire hazard? And how can she preserve the albums and photos and miscellany without unduly burdening her children?
One thing for sure--Fio better start winnowing her own memorabilia. No need to add to the pile.