Part of our life mission has been warning people of the heartbreak caused by not hiring reliable wedding vendors for photography and videography. How those memories are irreplaceable and will be shared for generations.

It all comes down to trust.

Who do you trust with the memories, and the people in them?

Misplaced trust can be catastrophic. It happened to us recently and I still can’t talk about it without getting choked up.

This was the first year our two daughters were in dance. They both refused to show us their moves at home, so we were anxiously awaiting the recital. Having watched our stubborn and slightly spacey five-year-old during her classes, I told Gabe Id be happy with her performing even 10% of the dance on stage.

However, the recital came and, much to our surprise and elation, she perfectly executed the complex routine. Her older sister also danced with precision and passion.

Seriously proud parent moment.

But! Here’s where the heartbreak comes in.

The studio banned spectator filming. I mean, with a packed auditorium I could see how a lot of phones out could get in the way.

They adamantly assured us (as they charged an extra fee) that “professional” photo and video would be taken of the recital.

We followed the rules. Again, back to TRUST, and didn’t record this monumental occasion.

Between grandparents in other states who couldn’t make the recital, and us anxiously wanting to see a replay, it was a long three-week wait for the film.

When we finally received the email link, it was honestly hard to believe what we were seeing. The photos and video were so incredibly blown out that you could barely see movement, let alone faces. A muddy glow of horrific audio-visual mess. Completely unwatchable and a heartbreaking betrayal.

There was no apology from the studio. They acted like the media was perfectly acceptable and worth the thousands they collected. “Professional” promised, Iphone on a tripod delivered.

But it’s not about the money. There’s no amount we wouldn’t have spent on quality video documenting our girls’ first recital. Their hard work and passion. Being able to watch that video when they grow up and leave home. Being able to pull out the film to show our grandkids when they start dance.

Now there are tears on my damn keyboard as I type. Because the pain of that loss cuts deep.

If you see us there next year with $20,000 in camera gear, filming from the isle, mind ya business.