Walk into Number 19 Gallery in Jamberoo, and one of the first things you spot is a collection of vibrantly coloured paintings instantly evocative of the South Coast.

Behind that flash of colour lies a remarkable story of talent, triumph, love and loss.

Painter Deborah Chisholm passed away on 15 December.

She leaves behind a grief-stricken husband, Ross, who mists up multiple times a day and says little beyond: “I miss her so much. She was such a talented person.

“She loved this place, the cows, the horses, the lyrebirds, the blue wrens. We have blue wrens everywhere. She was inspired.”

A flyer for her 2024 exhibition at Fern Street Gallery in Gerringong, before her cancer diagnosis, declared: “Colours pop and fizz, and patterns cleverly emerge, layer upon layer, like Russian nesting dolls, suggesting the grandeur of everyday existence built upon the microscopic framework of life itself.”

Deb described her creative process: “Suddenly I’ll visualise a painting, its colours and patterns. The South Coast is truly my haven – the green hills, the bird life, the vastness of the ocean – all hold a powerful artistic potency.”

Their beautiful house up on Fountaindale Road edges the local rainforest known as The Brush, a remnant of the region's lush temperate rainforest.

Each evening, the loved-up couple sat at a table in the garden, admiring the Jamberoo Valley view with a glass of wine. 

“It was unreal,” Ross recalls. “Just the two of us and the dog. You couldn’t get any life any better.”

New arrivals in Jamberoo since moving into their forever home in 2021 amid the COVID-19 pandemic, both professionals from the Sutherland Shire – Ross an engineer, Deb a graphic designer with her own business, they named their new home Omaroo, an Indigenous word meaning “beautiful view”. It was their retirement dream.

They poured money, love and effort into remodelling gardens and lawns.

The house brims with Deb’s paintings. Prints sell well in Allowrie Street, but Ross will never part with the originals.

Covid isolation deepened their bond, sparking Deb’s artistic renaissance. After decades as a graphic artist, she turned to vivid paintings of South Coast landscapes.

Their dreams were shattered on 24 August 2024 with her diagnosis of aggressive brain cancer and she was given six months to live.

Surgery left her severely disabled - Ross became her full-time carer. Early efforts to get help from the NDIS frustrated him deeply, leaving him with the conviction that the scheme is heavily rorted and in urgent need of reform.

Often unwell, she painted one-handed; her studio holds half-completed works.

After 14 years together, they married on 1 January 2025. “It was a perfect day,” Ross recalls.

They knew it couldn’t last.

Loss echoes everywhere: an unused pizza oven on the back lawns, an unused, covered spa, a brand-new Porsche SUV driven only once - to bring Deb home from hospital. She wanted to die at home, but illness returned her to hospital for her final weeks.

Her last wish: Ross by her side at the end.

He missed the moment by five minutes. Telling the story, he chokes up again. A terrible regret.

Artistic to the end, Deb left a final card in elegant script with a splash of colour on the cover: 

“Dear husband, my soulmate, my rock.

“I am so glad we found each other! We’ve had plenty of fantastic times away overseas and not only that at home spending time together and enjoying life.

“You have given me more than I could ever ask for in dedication and devotion in looking after me through thick and thin, and I am eternally grateful for your support.

“Even though you can’t see me, I will always be hanging around sitting next to you on the chair looking over the beautiful valley.

"My spirit will be mingled with the mist rising from the valley.

"It will be in the song of the lyrebird singing to you melodies from the bush. It will be the rustling of the wind through the trees.

“Just talk to me. I will hear you. I may not answer but just know I can hear you.

“Be brave and soldier on. And I love you more than you could ever know.”