Your heart was pounding. You were sweating through your shirt, and your mind was racing a million miles a minute. It wasn’t an armed robbery, a fire, or some terrible accident that had you so worked up. No, it was a cartoon. A kids’ show. One that had somehow found its way onto your television, and into your very soul. And just as you were about to have a full-blown existential crisis, the phone rang. It was your dad. “Y’alright, love?” a familiar voice said. He sounded warm, and his scouse accent was as thick as ever. It had been nearly fifty years since that night in December of 1980 when he’d faced a tragedy that should have taken him from you. But it didn't. He survived, and now, at eighty-four, his voice was still just as comforting as you remembered from childhood. “Dad, you won’t believe what I’m watching,” you said, your voice shaky. “It’s a cartoon, but they’re singing your songs. The whole thing is based on your music!” There was a pause on the other end of the line, then he chuckled. “Oh, that old thing? Yoko told me about it. It’s for kids, you know. They’re called the Beat Bugs or something like that.” “Beat Bugs?!” you shrieked. “Are you serious? You just know about this, and you’re not freaking out?” “Freaking out? Why would I be freaking out? It’s a cartoon, love. It’s a bit of fun. It’s not like they’re doing a heavy metal version of ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’.” “But…the theme song is ‘All You Need Is Love’!” you exclaimed, and you could hear your husband, Mark, laughing in the background. “It’s like they’ve taken your music and…and put it in a blender with some animated bugs!” “And what’s wrong with that?” he said, his voice calm. “It means the music lives on. It means that new generations get to hear it, even if it’s from a couple of cartoon beetles.” You were speechless. Your dad, the same man who had written the songs you were now losing your mind over, was completely unfazed. “But…but it’s a bit weird, isn’t it?” you asked, finally. “What’s a bit weird is you, a grown married woman, losing your mind over a cartoon,” he replied, and you could practically see him smiling on the other end of the line. “Relax, love. It’s just music. It’s just art. And it’s not for you, it’s for the kids.” He was right. Of course he was right. You took a deep breath, and felt the tension slowly leave your body. “You’re right,” you said. “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know. I guess I’m just protective of it all.” “I know, love. But you don’t have to be. The music is for everyone. It always has been.” You sat for a moment, and you looked back at the screen. A little beetle was singing a surprisingly sweet rendition of “Hey Jude”. You couldn’t help but smile. “So, when are you going to get a cameo in one of them?” you joked. “Maybe they’ll do a cartoon version of an old fella with a guitar, walking through a garden of bugs,” he said, laughing. “Don’t you worry about me, love. I’ve still got plenty of life left in me. Now go on, and watch your cartoon.” You hung up, and for the first time, you watched the show without the panic. The music was still the same, and it was still beautiful. But now, it wasn’t just a memory. It was something new, something that was reaching a new generation, just as your dad had said. You weren’t watching a cartoon about bugs anymore. You were watching a new chapter unfold, and it was a chapter your dad got to be a part of. And for that, you were eternally grateful.