Who the hell are these people and why are they here?

My brother, sister and I have been cleaning out our 99-year-old mother's four-bedroom house. Now that she is moving into an assisted living facility, she only needs to take with her enough possessions to fill a one-bedroom apartment. We've had to make some tough decisions, especially about family mementos.

For example, after much discussion, we today agreed to consign a 150-year-old family Bible to a trash bag. The pages were moldy, the binding was rotten, the back cover had become detached. The last birth entered into it was that of our great aunt Sue in 1886.  Nobody wanted it. Even mom.

Hundreds of other mementos, including many photos, have met the same fate, but only after much back and forth.

Today, we decided to toss the photo of our second cousin, Debbie, and her husband, that has sat on a bookcase in mom's downstairs rec room for the last 30 years or so. "I say we should throw away the picture of Debbie," I announced.

"That's not Debbie," my sister said. "I don't know who the woman is, but the guy is (cousin) Bob. That's not his wife, though. She's someone he was dating after the divorce. They were on a trip to the Middle East. I think they were in Egypt."

"No, Tom's right," my brother said. "That's Debbie and her husband. Look at her. She's a dead ringer for Aunt Margaret (mom's sister) at the same age."

Whoever she and/or he is, we agreed to remove the photo, toss it in the trash, and place the frame with the dozens of other frames that will be sold at an upcoming sale.

When we took the picture out of the frame, we discovered it wasn't a photo at all. It was printed on thin paper, one of those sample photos that comes inside every inexpensive picture frame.

Someone -- maybe one of us -- had given mom a frame that for 30 years has shared a place of honor on the bookcase with photos of other family members.

We are fairly sure, however, that it wasn't given to mom by Debbie or Bob.