I'm gonna echo the crowd, here. Clean it, oil it, and cherish it for what it is, and relish the memories.
I've got a lovely old .22 Remington bolt action that was the first gun I ever shot. It belonged to my Uncle Jack and he'd had it since he was a kid. He taught me how to shoot it around 1957, safely, accurately, and with a love for the sport of it that has never diminished.
Uncle Jack died in 1998 and I got the gun. Jack had no kids, and I guess I filled that void in his life as he filled one in mine.
Anyway, that old gun still shoots straight and true. It has a few spots where the bluing has worn through, and a spot or two where a bit of rust tried to start. But, it's as original as Remington made it. Some day, it will go to one of my two grandsons. I picked up a nifty little .22 pump for the other one.
I don't know which of the kids will get Uncle Jack's.
Depends on which one treats me better in my dotage--which seems to be arriving at freight train speed.
Offered with respect,
Crusader Rabbit