When my grandmother died (back in the early nineties), my father and her other children asked the grandkids to come to her house and take things we wanted. We felt funny about it, like it would be disrespectful. My father finally pointed out that if we didn't use her things, they'd have to sell them in an estate sale, so if there was something of hers we wanted, we should take it and that it would be better for these things to stay in the family. So I did take a few things. We all did, though there were no fights over her stuff, as I recall.
I took some things that were pretty and some things that were completely unromantic but very useful.
I have a silver teapot of hers that I need to polish. It's very pretty. It's not very practical--I don't typically serve tea out of it--but I like it.
I have a small sugar bowl and creamer that was hers as well.
Most of the stuff I took were things that I would use every day. I use those teacups quite regularly. There are a few things I don't use a lot--the teapot and the dessert glasses, for example--but I do use them. And when I use her things, even if it's the humble stovetop percolator or the silverware, I think of her. If I absolutely had to get rid of things, I know that many of these things could easily go, but I can't let them go. I think of her when I use them and I remember things about her that I would have forgotten by now. Honestly, I'll probably hold on to these things until I'm on death's door myself.