Two days ago was election day; two days from now will be Veterans Day. One day is capitalized; the other is not. There’s a reason for that.

Our politicians, whoever they are, have been rewarded with our vote – and our trust – this past Tuesday. But our veterans will be honored on Saturday, Nov. 11; that’s the official date when we salute those who have served in this country’s military, especially during combat. Thus, the designated – capitalized – Veterans Day.

Which brings me back to lower-case election day and to two things I happened to read Tuesday morning before ballot casting and poll watching.

One was a letter to the editor in this newspaper from a Master Sgt. Edwin Holt from Eden Prairie, Minn., who said he was moved to tears by a warm reception at the Bangor International Airport two years ago when he walked down the concourse after serving in Bosnia and Herzegovina as part of a NATO peacekeeping mission.

This same veteran had put on an Army uniform in 1967, spent two years overseas and remembered a far different greeting as he returned: “glares of hostility, anger and frustration,” that sent him to the men’s room where he swapped his uniform for civilian clothes. Yet, the Bangor experience much later helped him close a circle, one that he wished “other Vietnam-era veterans could experience.”

Without meeting Master Sgt. Holt, he is no stranger to me. On an Easter morning in 1991, Desert Storm veterans were passing through the Bangor airport after combat in the Gulf War. Yellow ribbons were everywhere, and throngs of Mainers encircled the troops, clapping, saluting and even hugging them. There wasn’t a dry eye in the airport that I could see, through my own tears.

And I remembered a day in July of 1968 when I was crying tears of joy as my young husband returned from Danang. There were no bands, nor banners, nor politicians.

On election day two days ago, I read the letter from Master Sgt. Holt, who had finally “closed a circle.” Then I read a segment from Bob Woodward’s latest book “State of Denial: Bush at War, Part III.”

This is what the Washington Post’s Woodward wrote about a White House reception on Jan. 3, 2005 – almost two years after the beginning of the war in Iraq, with more than 1,300 Americans and thousands more Iraqis dead. The reception was held to honor newly elected members of Congress and their spouses, whom President Bush addressed:

“‘Laura and I know how hard it is on a family to be in the political arena,’ he said. ‘It’s the ultimate sacrifice, really – sacrifice your privacy, sacrifice time with your kids.'”

As we move from election day to Veterans Day, all of us – regardless of political affiliation – know the real meaning of the words “ultimate sacrifice.” We also know the difference between those who send others to war and those who serve.

We’ve learned a lot about sacrifice, watching the “Greatest Generation” of WWII vets parade down Boston streets; we understand – and regret – the deep wounds of Vietnam vets; we welcomed the first Gulf War troops and now Iraq War veterans. We’ve learned so much we should have listened to a minister, not a politician, who said, “God Damn War. That’s not a curse, but a prayer.”