Today i just met another stutterer for the first time

Today i just met another stutterer for the first time He came to my house as a heating engineer. He was maybe 25 years old. Handling his blocks with so much courage, he explained me everything, and why it would be better to choose this instead of that, the advantage of this and this, some problems that occur in other situations etc. He never tried to end the conversation quickly in any subject. I was so proud of him. All this time i wanted to congrats him for his bravery. I wanted to tell him i was a stutterer too, a severe one, i know the hell it was. I wanted to tell him he's doing great, that the way he accepts it and deal with it, i think it will keep going better and better. That even the way it is, it's not even a problem. But i didn't say a word about it. I behaved like if i wasn't talking to a stutterer. Just looking at him with my respectous eyes, not a single a blink or facial expression during his blocks. I behaved like there is no difference. It was natural to me because i sincerely think there is no problem with his stutterering, he's doing great with it. I will probably see him again, what would you do if you were in my shoes ? Would you say something about it ? I thought i would stutter all my life. But it kept going better and better. I was a very severe stutterer for 18 years and i speak fluently now. I'm sorry i know some people stutter all their life. It still defines me. This past is a part of me and i accept it in my identity. I feel like a hidden stutterer, not a healed stutterer. /// A word about me : I thought i would stutter all my life. But it kept going better and better. I was a very severe stutterer for 18 years and i speak fluently now. I'm sorry i know some people stutter all their life. It still defines me. This past is a part of me and i accept it in my identity. I feel like a hidden stutterer, not a healed stutterer. For the detail, i learned that my grandfather was a stutterer too in his early life, but it was so ashamed, he never said a word to me about it, or anyone. He was ashamed of me too. I remember i tried to speak to him about it, but he was like a wall of ice. I only received respect from him the day before he died, in his hospital bed. Morphine helped probably. I wished someone who knows what it is talked to me about it, at least just one time.