Couple won't let obstacles weaken their love
When Taylor Zediker asked her boyfriend Matt Connelly for a granola bar at the end of their hike to Kildoo Falls at McConnells Mill State Park, he obliged. Little did she know that Connelly would also retrieve a diamond ring from his backpack and request that she spend the rest of her life at his side.
“He decided the best time to ask the big question was when I had a chipmunk cheek-sized bite of granola bar in my mouth,” Taylor said.
While Zediker tried to swallow the granola without choking, Connelly was momentarily concerned.
“She didn't say yes at first,” he recalled of the event on May 4, 2019. “She was just nodding her head with her arms wide open.”
If only the wedding planning had gone as smoothly as the engagement.
First, the couple in June booked Noah's Event Venue in Cranberry Township by plunking down a check for $7,000. Their special date was May 9, now just six weeks away.
Like thousands of others across the U.S., the couple was astounded when the venue abruptly closed its doors in early February without an explanation or refunding a single cent
.Zediker filled out extensive paperwork to get her money back through a bankruptcy claim in preparation of visiting an attorney.Then, seven days before the filing deadline, Noah's changed their bankruptcy to a “no assets” case.“So no one can file against them,” Zediker said.With fewer than 90 days until her wedding, the couple called 15 other venues and toured six in the next three days.They decided to go with the Hampton Banquet Hall in Gibsonia.“They were extremely generous, with lots of discounts and free add-ons because of the situation,” Zediker said.Then news of a new virus called the coronavirus began dominating the news.Once the potentially deadly bug made its way to the U.S., the bridal party began having second thoughts.The first to go were the bachelor and bachelorette parties, both planned for March 22.The bachelorette party, which consisted of a trendy rental apartment in Pittsburgh's Lawrenceville neighborhood and reservations at the Candle Lab and Tupelo Honey Teas, plus shopping on picturesque Butler Street, was cancelled due to concerns over the virus.Luckily, Zediker's maid of honor was able to secure refunds from all the reservations made for the bachelorette party.Likewise, Connelly's bachelor party was scuttled.
“The groomsmen were going to go to Seven Springs, but after talking to everyone, we thought it was best just not to go,” he said.While the priest at Holy Sepulcher Catholic Church in Middlesex Township agreed to perform a ceremony on their wedding date before a small group of family only, the wedding gown chosen by Zediker remains a hostage of the closed shop where she was measured for her first alteration before Gov. Tom Wolf ordered all nonessential businesses to lock up.Zediker said the seamstress called on Thursday to say she hasn't started the alterations, but was going to check with the shop's manager to see if he would give her the dress to nip and tuck at home.“She's not allowed to enter the shop and do alterations because employees and customers are not allowed in there,” she said.“Maybe you can learn to sew overnight,” Connelly suggested.Zediker said she has a potential plan if her dress remains unavailable on May 9.“If I can't get it, I have a favorite green dress I wear and I'll use the wedding dress for the reception when we have that,” she said with a noticeable tinge of sadness.The couple is now in talks with Hampton Banquet Hall to see what dates they can get for a reception later in the year.The past several weeks have not exactly been what little girls dream of when mentally planning their future weddings.“At this point, everyone keeps saying I'm handling this well and I'm calm, but really, not many more surprises can happen,” Zediker said. “The marriage part should be a breeze.”The couple agrees that no virus, or anything else, is going to break their bond.“It's utter chaos, but I'm just like through all of this, I never had the feeling 'Should we still go through with this?'” Connelly said. “Ultimately, it doesn't matter who is there or where it's at, the important thing is we're getting married.”Asked about her dream to see her little girl marry the man she loves in a big church wedding, Zediker's mother, Joanne, said her concern is for her daughter and her fiancé.“I think for me, my heart breaks for them,” Joanne said through tears. “I never thought we'd be planning a wedding three times. First Noah's, then May 9th, and unless there's a drastic change, I don't think we'll be able to have the reception that day.”Joanne, who does know how to sew, said she will try to make alterations on her daughter's wedding gown if she absolutely has to.“I really didn't want to be responsible for her wedding dress, but I'm sure that in a pinch, I could handle it,” she said. “It's all really been a challenge.”She said her 93-year-old mother put the scaled-back wedding proceedings into perspective for her family.“She kind of likened it to how she got married during World War II,” Joanne said.Her mother explained that she didn't have a wedding gown because fabric was being used for parachutes, she could only have two attendants, and her reception was a picnic in her family's backyard.“Hopefully it makes them feel that it's more special, the fact that they were able to get married at all under these circumstances (with the virus),” Joanne said. “They may not be able to have the reception as planned, but whenever and wherever it is, we'll make it a special day.”Whatever the setting, the young couple can't wait to be husband and wife.Connelly said they are polar opposites, which allows them to balance one another out and forces them to try things they might not have otherwise.“I'm outdoorsy,” Connelly said. “I enjoy camping and I was an Eagle Scout.”“My idea of outdoorsy is on the porch with a glass of iced tea,” Zediker said.But Connelly has succeeded in getting his fiancée out in nature more since they met.“Including that trail at McConnells Mill,” Zediker said.
