I grew up with them too, and our joke is that they're my dowry....my BF is a musician and record collector. It's a combination of the two collections. When the Martin Scorsese jazz series was on PBS, my sister and I hummed along; there wasn't a piece on it that we hadn't heard about a million times. We called it the soundtrack of our lives. Dad's thing was trad jazz, big bands and dixieland, but he also had hi fi demo records (hear the train travel across the room from speaker to speaker) and weirdnesses like Yma Sumac and Martin Denny. Dad DIDN'T play, except a bit of barrelhouse piano for his own amusement...but loved music and musicians. I saw him cry twice just twice....when FDR died, and when Fats Waller died.
Paul, the BF, shuffles and sorts them, and occasionally plays them, but mostly they're just THERE...