My dad almost died recently (he got better). The experience lead to several vivid memories from my childhood resurfacing. Memories I forgot I forgot. I would have remembered them if I had a reason to I think, but I had no reason to and so I didn't until then.
It also made me realise that while previously I thought of my life as a continuous experience, I now feel like there's a gap in there somewhere. The child me and the present me are separated my more than just time filled with stuff. And there may be more gaps, breaking my life into even smaller pieces now that I think about it.
It's all still in threre, I don't think I've really forgotten anything, but I don't have a reason to remember a lot of stuff from the past so I just don't.