Aku awali pesan ini dengan kata bismillah, berharap agar semua berjalan mudah.
Tapi kenyataanya, tak ada cara mudah untuk menyampaikn ini semua.
Dari pada aku berbasa basi banyak alasan, lebih baik ku sampaikan saja secara mengalir laksana sebuah cerita.
Semalam waktu aku berkumpul bersama keluarga ku, bapak, ibu, dan adik-adik ku, aku bercerita tentang kamu.
tentang hubungan kita.
Tentang asal usul dan juga setatus mu.
Tapi.. respon yang ku dapat jauh di luar perkiraan yang ku harap.
Bahkan harus berahir dengan penyesalan.
mengapa aku tadi bercerita?
kenapa tadi ku tak diam saja?
Aku menggerutu dalam hati yang di penuhi sesal.
Tapi begitulah takdir berperan, mengalir bagai arus air.
Tak akan bisa di tahan walau dengan membentang kedua tangan.
Apa kamu tau apa respon mereka?
Ibunda ku berkata..
“Le..mbok kamu itu tau diri.
Lihat dulu dari kalangan mana kamu berasal.
Dia itu orang yang berpendidikan.
Kuliah, jadi mahasiswi, pasti orang tuanya mengharap masa depan cerah untuk dia.
Mereka ingin hidup anak mereka terjamin, berkecukupan, dan bisa jadi “orang”.
Lha kamu ini apa to le?
Kamu cuma lulusan SD, lulusan pesantren.
Jangankan kuliah le, SMP saja kamu ga’ pernah.
Lha kok berani-beraninya pacaran sama mahasiswa, yang cerah masa depanya.
Lebih baik kamu “lepas” saja dia.
Sebelum semua terlambat terlalu jauh.
Sebelum kamu mengecewakanya terlalu dalam.
Ngomong pelan-pelan sama dia.
Yang halus..yang sopan.
Kalo dia marah sama kamu, itu memang haknya dia.
Karena itu memang salah kamu.
Tapi ibu nasehatkan sama kamu, itu semua juga demi kebaikan dia.
Dia ga’ pantes sama kamu.
Dia berhak dapat yang lebih baik dari pada kamu.
Kita ini orang kecil le.
Berfikiran yang sederhana.
Yang penting hidup tentram dan mensyukuri apa yang ada.
Kalo kamu memang cinta sama dia, seharusnya kamu ga’ egois.
Kamu juga harus mikir masa depan dia juga.
Kalo dia sama kamu yang orang kampung ini, mau jadi apa dia?
Lagi pula dia jauh juga kan?
Ibu ga’ pengen nanti punya menantu yang jauh.
Apa lagi sampai nyebrang laut.
Kamu ga’ lihat sekarang kapal pada tenggelam?
Pesawat juga pada jatuh?
Kalo memang terpaksa dapat yang jauh, yang penting ga’ nyebrang laut”.
Bapak ku juga mendukung kata-kata ibu ku..
“Mumpung belum kenal lebih dalam, mending sudahi skrg.
Dari pada kamu malah lebih membuat dia kecewa nantinya”.
Aku berfikir semalaman.
Galau, kecewa, dan marah, karena merasa aku ga’ pernah di anggap benar dalam melangkah.
Tapi.. setelah ku berfikir panjang, kata-kata mereka benar juga.
Kamu ga’ pantas dengan aku.
Kamu berhak mendapat yang lebih baik dari aku.
Aku hanya ingin.. jika hubungan ini harus berahir, ku ingin di ahiri dengan baik-baik..
Sebagaimana kita memulai semua ini dengan baik-baik pula.
Ku ingin kau mengerti sayang, ku meninggalkan mu bukan karena rasa benci ku.
Tapi.. Ku ingin kau tau, beginilah cara ku dalam mencintai mu.
Bukankah cinta itu bukan tentang bagaimana cara kita memiliki?
Tapi bagaimana cara kita berkorban demi orang yang paling kita cintai..
Dan dalam kisah ku ini, orang itu adalah kamu..
Baik-baiklah kau di batas cakrawala sana..
Dan dari belahan bumi yang jauh ini, aku kan selalu mendo’akan untuk kebahagiaan mu..
Dari ku..
Cinta mu di ujung bumi .....
cerita romantis di atas adalah sebuah cerita yang diambil dari kisah perjalanan yang nyata. Begitu romantis dan menyentuh hati...untuk se sengkap nya klik di sini

Even as a high school student, Dave Goldberg was urging female classmates to speak up. As a young dot-com executive, he had one girlfriend after another, but fell hard for a driven friend named Sheryl Sandberg, pining after her for years. After they wed, Mr. Goldberg pushed her to negotiate hard for high compensation and arranged his schedule so that he could be home with their children when she was traveling for work.

Mr. Goldberg, who died unexpectedly on Friday, was a genial, 47-year-old Silicon Valley entrepreneur who built his latest company, SurveyMonkey, from a modest enterprise to one recently valued by investors at $2 billion. But he was also perhaps the signature male feminist of his era: the first major chief executive in memory to spur his wife to become as successful in business as he was, and an essential figure in “Lean In,” Ms. Sandberg’s blockbuster guide to female achievement.

Over the weekend, even strangers were shocked at his death, both because of his relatively young age and because they knew of him as the living, breathing, car-pooling center of a new philosophy of two-career marriage.

“They were very much the role models for what this next generation wants to grapple with,” said Debora L. Spar, the president of Barnard College. In a 2011 commencement speech there, Ms. Sandberg told the graduates that whom they married would be their most important career decision.

In the play “The Heidi Chronicles,” revived on Broadway this spring, a male character who is the founder of a media company says that “I don’t want to come home to an A-plus,” explaining that his ambitions require him to marry an unthreatening helpmeet. Mr. Goldberg grew up to hold the opposite view, starting with his upbringing in progressive Minneapolis circles where “there was woman power in every aspect of our lives,” Jeffrey Dachis, a childhood friend, said in an interview.

The Goldberg parents read “The Feminine Mystique” together — in fact, Mr. Goldberg’s father introduced it to his wife, according to Ms. Sandberg’s book. In 1976, Paula Goldberg helped found a nonprofit to aid children with disabilities. Her husband, Mel, a law professor who taught at night, made the family breakfast at home.

Later, when Dave Goldberg was in high school and his prom date, Jill Chessen, stayed silent in a politics class, he chastised her afterward. He said, “You need to speak up,” Ms. Chessen recalled in an interview. “They need to hear your voice.”

Years later, when Karin Gilford, an early employee at Launch Media, Mr. Goldberg’s digital music company, became a mother, he knew exactly what to do. He kept giving her challenging assignments, she recalled, but also let her work from home one day a week. After Yahoo acquired Launch, Mr. Goldberg became known for distributing roses to all the women in the office on Valentine’s Day.

Ms. Sandberg, who often describes herself as bossy-in-a-good-way, enchanted him when they became friendly in the mid-1990s. He “was smitten with her,” Ms. Chessen remembered. Ms. Sandberg was dating someone else, but Mr. Goldberg still hung around, even helping her and her then-boyfriend move, recalled Bob Roback, a friend and co-founder of Launch. When they finally married in 2004, friends remember thinking how similar the two were, and that the qualities that might have made Ms. Sandberg intimidating to some men drew Mr. Goldberg to her even more.

Over the next decade, Mr. Goldberg and Ms. Sandberg pioneered new ways of capturing information online, had a son and then a daughter, became immensely wealthy, and hashed out their who-does-what-in-this-marriage issues. Mr. Goldberg’s commute from the Bay Area to Los Angeles became a strain, so he relocated, later joking that he “lost the coin flip” of where they would live. He paid the bills, she planned the birthday parties, and both often left their offices at 5:30 so they could eat dinner with their children before resuming work afterward.

Friends in Silicon Valley say they were careful to conduct their careers separately, politely refusing when outsiders would ask one about the other’s work: Ms. Sandberg’s role building Facebook into an information and advertising powerhouse, and Mr. Goldberg at SurveyMonkey, which made polling faster and cheaper. But privately, their work was intertwined. He often began statements to his team with the phrase “Well, Sheryl said” sharing her business advice. He counseled her, too, starting with her salary negotiations with Mark Zuckerberg.

“I wanted Mark to really feel he stretched to get Sheryl, because she was worth it,” Mr. Goldberg explained in a 2013 “60 Minutes” interview, his Minnesota accent and his smile intact as he offered a rare peek of the intersection of marriage and money at the top of corporate life.



While his wife grew increasingly outspoken about women’s advancement, Mr. Goldberg quietly advised the men in the office on family and partnership matters, an associate said. Six out of 16 members of SurveyMonkey’s management team are female, an almost unheard-of ratio among Silicon Valley “unicorns,” or companies valued at over $1 billion.

When Mellody Hobson, a friend and finance executive, wrote a chapter of “Lean In” about women of color for the college edition of the book, Mr. Goldberg gave her feedback on the draft, a clue to his deep involvement. He joked with Ms. Hobson that she was too long-winded, like Ms. Sandberg, but aside from that, he said he loved the chapter, she said in an interview.

By then, Mr. Goldberg was a figure of fascination who inspired a “where can I get one of those?” reaction among many of the women who had read the best seller “Lean In.” Some lamented that Ms. Sandberg’s advice hinged too much on marrying a Dave Goldberg, who was humble enough to plan around his wife, attentive enough to worry about which shoes his young daughter would wear, and rich enough to help pay for the help that made the family’s balancing act manageable.

Now that he is gone, and Ms. Sandberg goes from being half of a celebrated partnership to perhaps the business world’s most prominent single mother, the pages of “Lean In” carry a new sting of loss.

“We are never at 50-50 at any given moment — perfect equality is hard to define or sustain — but we allow the pendulum to swing back and forth between us,” she wrote in 2013, adding that they were looking forward to raising teenagers together.

“Fortunately, I have Dave to figure it out with me,” she wrote.

Dave Goldberg Was Lifelong Womenís Advocate

Artikel lainnya »