Do I dare bang on the door of a house I used to live in?

A few months ago I posted a thread about the house I grew up in. The house is still there, and (as mentioned above) my mother still lives there.

It’s an old, Cape Cod-style house on a couple wooded acres with a creek. I played in that yard all through the 1970s. Today, when I walk around the property, all those memories come flooding back: planting the garden, playing hide-and seek, catching lightning bugs, flying kites, building tree forts, wading in the creek. Such innocent times.