Before it's too late

I attended a private Catholic high school and in 1994, went on a spiritual retreat.  Part of this retreat was receiving positive, inspirational letters from friends and family who had written them without us knowing.

I kept these letters and just this month opened one up from my mother.  She wrote that she wished I would open up to her because she really is interested in what's going on in my life. 

This is 2010 and I have yet to open up to her and I can't explain why.  All these years I've rarely spoken to her or let her in my life.  I love my mother and she truly is a wonderful mother who has sacrificed so much for her family.  For some unknown reason I have yet to realize, I can't seem to open up to her and talk to her, even about little things like how my day was.  She'll ask me a question and I usually respond with few worded answers or the famous, "I dunno."  This hurts me that I can't tell her things and after recently reading the letter, I realized that this must have hurt her all these years. 

Everyday I think to myself, "Call her and tell her you love her.  Imagine how happy she'll be.  Imagine how happy you'll be."  But I never end up picking up that phone and calling her.