ABSTRACT
I have never lived in a household with both my parents. The most obvious part of their relationship was that they were apart . . . far apart. My mother raised me by herself. Even when given the chance to care for me during visits, my father never struck me as a parent. In my mind, his presence during my childhood was blurred into a general sense of mystique about his position in our lives. There was a large contrast between everyday life with my mother and the times I spent with my father, when elegant meals out and shopping sprees at his expense were the norm. However, when I was small I couldn’t see that he was leading a comparably privileged life and that being without him added to my mother’s financial struggle.
