It’s been one year since my dad and I decided to be co-workers—sharing a small, two-room office equidistant from our houses in Denver. We’ve carefully furnished the space with southwestern art, standing desks, and fragile succulents. On Fridays we alternate buying each other lunch from a restaurant nearby, and we often find ourselves discussing the ups and downs of our respective work in the small hallway between our two rooms. It’s been the best thing, unlocking a new dimension in our relationship. While we don’t work together at the same company, it’s given me a small taste of what an intergenerational business might be like and the deeper bonds and friendships when family and work meet.