The workplace isn’t designed for older women

My kids were finally almost grown, and I was in my late 50s, when my mother started to fall. Not once. A series of falls, each one taking a little more of her, until the word the doctors used was acute. My husband and I drove out into the high desert and hiked, because that is what we do when we can no longer think and have to anyway. Somewhere on that trail I understood the shape of the choice in front of me. I could close the business I had spent decades building and bring her home. Or I…