Gratitude

Dear Sears Card

I miss you and your friends in home appliances, too

When I first moved into an apartment (twenty-something years ago), my mom suggested I apply for a credit card. She said if paid for a purchase over time, I could establish credit. So I mailed in an application, and one day you arrived, blue and silver and with a little white strip on the back where I could sign my name.

I felt pretty grown up with you in my wallet alongside my driver’s license and the health insurance card from my library job.

One weekend, the ad flyer from Sears said that purchases from the TV and video department would have zero interest for six months. I wanted a TV and VCR for my new apartment, and mom said she’d come along to help me choose.

TV sets were so bulky then. I’m sure you helped pay for tons of them. I bet my nephews wouldn’t believe that nobody had heard of a flat screen in those days, except at the movie theater.

We found a TV that was good-sized but not too big, along with a VCR that would connect to it easily. I had a hand-me-down cabinet ready at home with space meant for both.

When it came time to ring up the sale, I handed you across the counter, and the clerk said I’d have to pay interest if I didn’t pay the full amount within a month. I forget why he didn’t want to give me the advertised deal; we must have missed something in the fine print.

My mom told him we’d come in particularly because of the deal and that I wouldn’t buy the items without the interest-free special. Before she could turn on her heel — you and I could feel that she was ready to walk away — the salesman said he’d see what he could do.

Turns out he could give me the deal after all, and I watched him swipe you through the slot across the top of the keyboard attached to his cash register. Then he handed you back to me along with the receipt.

Every month, I made my payments until your balance was paid off. I think it was about $100 at a time. Thanks to you, I started to receive offers for other cards, not just from stores and gas stations but cards I could use anywhere I wanted. Don’t worry: I’ve always been cautious about this.

You helped me buy a house and furnish it, too. The washer and dryer I bought with you are still humming away in my utility room.

Whenever an appliance breaks or I need a gift like a durable set of baby clothes or a cozy pair of grandma-style pajamas, I miss being able to go shopping with you. Our Sears store closed some years ago, and the building is still empty, like a huge old house waiting to be divided up into condos because who can fill such a big space by themselves anymore?

It’s funny how I can still picture you in my wallet though it’s been such a long time since you were there. You’re always with me, part of the memorabilia that I can’t help collecting and storing away in my mind like a shelf of old VHS tapes with one whirring machine to keep replaying them.