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Decluttering is hard to do - especially when you're stuck with Dad's collection of 8,000 miniature liquor bottles.

Leonard White, a Vancouver businessman, spent decades accumulating the vintage bottles but he didn't manage to sell them before his death a few months ago.

Now it's up to his son Alan. "He often said, 'The bottles are going to be your problem,' " Alan White recalls.

It turned out to be an understatement.

The stash of unopened bottles, in shapes ranging from Elvis to airplanes to animals, is worth tens of thousands of dollars, according to a dealer's appraisal.

The trouble is, no one wants them. Because the bottles contain spirits, liquor authorities deem them alcohol, meaning they can't easily be sold to a Nevada casino or through an auction house.

But Mr. White can't give the collection away because his father wanted his grandchildren to benefit financially from its sale. "He should have taken care of it when he was alive," he says.

The generation that endured wartime shortages is leaving its boomer heirs to deal with the consequences of their packrat tendencies.

Inheritors face the arduous task of disposing of collections that can be overwhelming in number and size, such as Dad's array of rusting farm equipment or Mom's 3,000 embroidered tea cozies.

Finding a buyer can take months or years, especially if the heir is determined to sell the collection intact.

But donating a collection to an institution for a hefty tax receipt isn't easy either. Because of tight funding and limited storage space, museums are forced to turn down all but the most relevant objects.

The Canadian Museum of Civilization gets regular calls from inheritors hoping to find a repository for their parents' legacies, says Stephen Inglis, director general of research and collections for the museum.

The institution has to be "very cautious," he says. "Once you accept an object through donation, for the most part you're accepting it forever."

Often it must decline valuable objects that do not fit within its mandate. "We can't become the attic of the whole country," Dr. Inglis says.

The museum will find a place for especially rare items, he says, such as a collection of historic Canadian textiles that belonged to scholar Ruth McKendry. They were donated by her daughter.

Elderly collectors are often unsure of what to do with their collections before they die. "A lot of people who spend their whole lives collecting things don't want to part with them," Dr. Inglis says.

Alison Watts of Phoenix learned this first-hand. Her grandmother left thousands of jade, agate, turquoise and a myriad of other stones in a collection that barely fits into a large room. "It's an albatross," she says.

Ms. Watts has been selling the collection piecemeal on eBay, but she says it will take years to get rid of all the rocks and petrified wood. "It's really tedious," she says.

In many cases, only a professional can tell whether a collection is valuable or simply eccentric. Descendants who don't share a collector's passion may not see the objects' value, estate experts say.

Heirs are often surprised by what fetches the highest price, says Jennifer Donnelly, a certified appraiser based in Toronto.

In one estate basement, Ms. Donnelly found two dozen old fishing lures, many in their original boxes. The lures sold at auction for $15,000 (U.S.), fetching "more than all the Victorian furniture in the house," she says.

For inheritors, a collection's worth is even less obvious when a hobbyist is cagey about it, according to Bill Longley, a philatelic auctioneer in Waterdown, Ont.

In some cases, collectors "don't want the wife to know how much they spent."

This secrecy leaves bereaved family members vulnerable to unscrupulous dealers, he says.

Instead, Mr. Longley recommends that collectors include a letter in their wills saying, "Honey, don't hate me but I spent $100,000 on stamps."

A collection gathered over a lifetime reflects the personality of its owner, which is why an heir may be loath to see it separated, says Joan Siedl, curator of history for the Vancouver Museum.

"Breaking it up is somehow breaking the trust of the person who left it to them."

Like many institutions, the museum has room for specific items, she says, but it cannot accommodate most large collections and common estate finds, such as an antique typewriter or Edwardian sewing machine.

For many grieving people, "it's shattering for them to hear," she says. "It's like saying the life [of the deceased] isn't historically important."

But Mr. White sees his father's liquor bottles in a different light. "One thing I've learned is that whatever you think you have of value, it's garbage to the next person," he says.

Managing keepsakes

Ridding yourself of a quirky yet valuable collection can take months or years. Here are a few tips that can help.PLAN AHEAD

Since keen collectors are in touch with dealers and market trends, persuade your relative to sell those antique coins or porcelain dolls before you get saddled with them.

SEARCH FOR DOCUMENTS

Packrats usually hoard catalogues and purchase receipts, which can yield clues about a collection's value and potential buyers.

CONSULT AN EXPERT

A certified appraiser can determine whether grandpa's military keepsakes are actually more valuable than grandma's beloved crystal.

LOOK BEYOND EBAY

Although legitimate dealers use eBay, many collectors avoid the site because of potential forgeries. Valuables may fetch better prices at an auction house.

SELL PIECEMEAL

Since most collectors don't want a ready-made collection, you could make more money by breaking it up.

Adriana Barton