Three years ago, my parents, Keith and Shannon Mason-Green, were drowning in debt. There was a monthly mortgage of $1,500 on a brand new house they had built in Winchester, Ky. Car notes on a Volvo and an Infiniti took another $1,600 bite out of their combined monthly take home pay of $6,500. On top of those expenses were the utility bills and a mountain of outstanding credit card debt acquired over the past 10 years.

My parents had already filed for bankruptcy seven years before but still had not found their way to where they wanted to be financially. Dad learned of an opportunity to work in Afghanistan for $110,000 a year compared to the $60,000 he was earning as an engineer at L3 Communications.

“We were in a bad way,” Mom recalls. “It seemed like God presented the opportunity for Keith to go when we were at our lowest. So we prayed about it and knew God would see us through it.”

Three years have gone by and my Dad is still working in Afghanistan. In those three years, Dad has been home only six times, and since I was away at school, the only close relative my Mom had for comfort, my beloved grandmommy, died– leaving her alone and experiencing a horde of emotions ­ fear, despair, melancholy, and seclusion.

“It’s been really hard for me,” my mom said. “Sometimes I just need someone to talk to. But I know it¹s all for the best and for the benefit of everyone in the family, but it¹s definitely hard.”

Since the war on terrorism began shortly after 9/11 during the Bush Administration, the story of my family has become too common in the United States. Many Americans have taken the opportunity to gain financial freedom by working in places like Afghanistan to earn a tax-free income.

The U.S. force in Afghanistan is 189,000 personnel ­ 121,000 of those being contractors, like my Dad. According to government statistics, military casualties in Afghanistan have reached just over 4,500 and deaths of private contractors working in Afghanistan are just over 50.

For my mother, the most gut-wrenching fear is the day when a grave phone call might awaken her, delivering news she loathes to hear.

“I don’t know what I would do if something were to happen to Keith,” she said, looking in my direction but clearly looking beyond me.

I usually talk to my Dad once a week and the calls have become increasingly melancholy. He adapts and adjusts to just about anything. To hear him describe the missiles being sporadically aimed at the army base and how he’s had to move from a room to a tent breaks my heart. I fear for him. I wish for him to come home. I wish there was another way for him to meet his financial obligations.

Dad’s term in Afghanistan was supposed to be only a year. But due to unexpected bills, rising college tuition and expenses, and his desire to put his family ahead financially instead of providing just enough, he has stayed.

But the family s financial situation has turned around. All credit card debt — $10,000 worth — has been paid off. Mom even occasionally manages to send care packages to my dad and myself. Gift cards, rolled quarters for laundry, a loving Hallmark card are items commonly included.

But the big empty house still haunts her. She’s ready for her husband to come home — Permanently.

“Keith’s ready to come home. And I’m ready for him to come home. I get so lonely,” she said with tears running down her cheeks. “When he is here, I never want him to leave. Soon ­ hopefully by the end of the year, we’ll be where we want to be financially and he can finally come home.”

Mom and I always spend Christmas together, but this past Christmas was the first time since 2006 that the entire family has spent the holiday together.

My Dad and I woke to an absurd 4 a.m. wake-up call from Mom to open gifts ­ lots of business attire for me since I am about to enter the professional world and plenty of Under Armour workout gear for Dad since the brand is his favorite. Soulful Christmas carols by Luther Vandross, The Temptations, and Patti LaBelle were playing in the background and me and Dad were half-asleep.

But not Mom. She smiled the entire time, and then tearfully said: “I’m so happy to have my family here. I love you two so much. You mean the world to me. I’m just so happy!”

If there were gold stars, plaques, medals, and medallions awarded to parents for their hard work, all of those put together would not be enough for mine.

But especially for my Dad, because he has made such an enormous sacrifice for my mother and me. He deserves the world.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.