As I sat in the hospice room, with the lights dimmed and a sunset glow outside, the young woman before me signed a consent form to donate her brain. A haunting moment that, as a clinical researcher, I sought to understand and commemorate. Sarah was a force to be reckoned with. Strong, golden-haired, brimming with life and a fierce love for her friends and family. A talented dancer, teacher, and nurturer who spent every spare moment honing her craft and pushing herself to the limit. Her pointe shoes, worn down to threads, reflected her dedicated hours. As I sat and spoke with Sarah’s father, a man with kind eyes and a warm smile, he told me that Sarah grew up discussing organ donation around the family dinner table, learning the value of helping someone else. With pride, he told me stories of Sarah looking beyond herself and providing others a chance to shine, nurturing creativity, confidence, and joy through dance. He spoke of her resolute strength, persevering through surgery, radiation, chemotherapy, and alternative approaches to care. He smiled as he told of her unwillingness to succumb, absurdly finding herself onstage at a rock concert, pirouetting in a beanie from a brain cancer charity just 24 hours after an aggressive cycle of chemotherapy.