The couple married in October 1992 and Christian was born just over a year later.
My firstborn, he says, his words trailing off. He takes a moment to compose himself, tugging at the bill of his baseball hat to shield the tears. He was such a special baby, a gift, which is why we named him Christian. He changed my life, because he made me care about my, our, future.
Overwhelmed, Aguilar turns to his younger son, Alexander, asking him to talk about Christian.
Away from the chaos of searches that have drawn more than 200 police officers, canine and mounted units from across the state, Alexander remembers an older brother who loves the Gators, funny YouTube videos and reruns of Scrubs. Almost three years apart, they had shared a bunk bed for 12 years, and as young boys had idolized cartoon duos, especially Buzz Lightyear and Woody from Toy Story. Alexander said Christians favorite treat was Krispy Kreme glazed donuts; he had even changed his Instagram username to KrispyKremeChris.
I put on a brave face, but when its quiet, I break down, Alexander says. The thought that he is still alive is what keeps us going.
The family last saw Christian on Sunday, Sept. 16 when he made a surprise visit home. Eight days later, the Aguilar family went to Christians dorm room with police.
While there, Aguilar discovered a montage of family photos that Christian was apparently creating for his parents upcoming anniversary in October. He had added words that talked about love being fulfilling, Aguilar said. It broke my heart when I read it.
Miami Herald staff writer Diana Moskovitz contributed to this report.