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Travel can be more than an adventure, especially for older folks (that would be me) who don鈥檛 get around as well as we used to.

I鈥檝e avoided flying 鈥� airports more than the actual flights 鈥� for several years. Driving is a better choice for me, typically to my son鈥檚 home in Ohio, then being a passenger for the remainder of a trip.

This time, Flagstaff, Arizona, was too much of a drive. Granddaughter Celia graduated from Northern Arizona University earlier this month.

I joined the family for the commencement ceremony, then Lake Powell in the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area (northern Arizona), and Telluride, Colorado.

I flew home from Grand Junction, Colo., completing a 10-day trip. Six airports, five flights, several miles in a car, nine nights away.

I was truly thankful to be home. Of course, also thankful for the time with my family.

We had a great time together that overcame the stress of traveling.

Months ago, daughter-in-law Terri booked flights, requesting passenger assistance for me. I鈥檝e used it previously, and knew I would need it.

At Myrtle Beach International Airport, my passenger assistance helpers were outstanding.

I was just out of a neighbor鈥檚 car when 鈥淛osh鈥� told me he would help. He took me to the American Airlines check-in, printed the boarding passes and luggage tag, then through the TSA inspection and up to the gate.

For my peace of mind, few passengers were in line. They seemed understanding of an old veteran in a wheelchair going ahead of them.

That was the case with passengers in the other airports, and on the airplanes.

Fellow passengers were friendly and helpful. A couple of guys, noticing my USS Princeton hat, asked about my Navy service. One told me his dad had flown off the same aircraft carrier. Small world.

On the long flight from Charlotte to Phoenix, the man seated across the aisle helped me up from my seat.

In the Charlotte airport, my passenger assistant wheeled me from the E concourse to B. Realistically, that trek would have been a challenge for me.

Coming home, my flight to MYR was from Dallas/Fort Worth. It was a long trip from my arrival concourse to the departure terminal 鈥� including a ride on the Skylink train connecting terminals.

I told my helper there that passengers like me would have a difficult time navigating airports like DFW.

By the way, my DFW-MYR flight was a new seasonal one, drawing visitors from a major market. Like many other such flights serving our area, this one was non-daily.

It was the most comfortable flight of the five, as the seat next to mine was not occupied and the flight attendant encouraged me to move over.

We had a wonderful family time, including the joyful experience of Celia鈥檚 college commencement.

When I was home, still recouping, I told my sister I might have pushed the envelope a bit. Her reply: 鈥淏ut you did it!鈥�